Dancing with the Devil
by thespiderthief
Summary: Set after S3, E2. Guy of Gisborne, the sheriff's right-hand man travels to London to face his impending excution (or so he believes). But what if Guy had somehow managed to escape? Would his endless pursuit for heritage land him in with the sheriff again, or would his broken mind rule over any sanity he has left?
1. Escaping Hell

**Dancing with the Devil;**

_The story is a version on how things would have gone differently if Guy had escaped Princes John's men and what would have he done after it. It also try to capture what's running through Guy's head and how he struggles after he murdered Marian. I like Guy more than Robin, but for those of you who do prefer Robin, there will be no character bashing._

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**Chapter 1; Escaping Hell**

The ropes dug tightly into Guy's wrists as the horse tugged him along the hard-beaten path. He was tired, footsore and thirsty. He had been walking all day while his captors trotted on their horses ahead of him- four men, Prince John's elite, each with armour and arms on fine steeds, making the guards in Nottingham look like beggars. Guy knew he couldn't win a fight against them, even at his best.

The sun had been relentless on its attack on Guy and the wind seemed to be pushing him closer to his death. His death. He was glad it wasn't in Nottingham. God knows what the peasants would have done with his body. In fact, he was glad no one (apart from the guards) saw him go. Guy could almost picture the smirks on their faces. But word travels faster than a fire in the shire and he was sure half the people already knew about his impending death.

But Guy didn't care what the people thought of him, so long as they respected or feared him, either one, he was content.

_'But now they won't fear you.'_ His demon whispered in his head. _'You've lost everything. Your landless, poor and have no power. You'll never be a man.'_ Another demon whispered. _'Shut up.' _He growled to himself even though it was pointless. But his demons were right- everything he had worked and killed for was washed away in a blink of an eye.

The old Guy would have never done such stupid and reckless things. But ever since he killed Marian in the holy land, Guy had no fear of Vaisey, or Prince John, or king Richard anymore. Not even death itself, for death would be a blessing to Guy. He knew he would go straight to hell. But it couldn't be worse than working for Vaisey, right? Vaisey. The very thought of his name made his blood boil.

Then Guy found the thing he desired most of all, more than his death- Vaisey's death. It was a stupid thing Hood would probably think of but it seemed to satisfy Guy's demons. _'Yes, his death.'_ He wanted the soulless devil who had took away everything from him, who had turned him into the monster that killed Marian and countless others, to lay face down in a pool of his own blood. But killing the cunning the sheriff of Nottingham was no easy task but he didn't care anymore, not about his own life. _'I must kill the sheriff. I must avenge Marian.'_ Guy had nothing left to lose now and everything to gain by Vaisey's death. He wasn't seeking eternal glory and love like Hood. Guy just wanted to be at peace with himself, to be rid of his demons forever more.

"Wake up dream-boy, we're settin' in for the night." One of the guards grunted at Guy, pulling him out of his fantasy. A year ago if someone had addressed him like that they would have their tongues cut out. But now, Guy was nothing now, nothing but a man waiting for death to claim him. The guard untied the rope to the horse then tugged him along to a flat-ish piece of land by the side of the road. The sun was beginning to set and soon night would fall. The guards made quick work of binding Guy to the tree, then leaving him, thinking he wouldn't escape, to get firewood and water. As soon as the sound of footsteps crunching leaves as gone Guy set to work on the ropes. He tugged and pulled at them but it was no use. Then he remembered, he tied an outlaw in a similar way to this. He rubbed the rope against the tree, wearing it down till it snapped. Guy watched him from the trees, then had one of his archers to shoot him down. So he began rubbing the ropes against the rough bark of the oak tree. His arms began to ache and there were no signs of the rope giving in just yet. He cursed aloud, then he could hear leaves crunching under boots stealthy. He knew that the guards were watching him, so he decided to sit there, showing the guards that he wasn't going to escape, fooling them into letting their guard down. Guy sighed out loud then rested his head against the tree, watching a small spider scuttle up it. The four guards began to drop down, two of them carrying wood, one with two hares across his shoulder and the other with waterskins dripping with water. Water. Guy's mouth was as dry as a rock and he didn't need reminding. "What are you staring at dream-boy?" Snapped the guard. They called him a boy, but Guy was older than most of the guards here. Guy was about to retaliate but his mind remained him that he had better play nice. But Guy was sick to death of being pushed around and told what to do. "They didn't tell me you were a mute." The other guards laughed. Putting on his best act, Guy replied, "I am thirsty, that's all."

"There's a stream not far from here, you can have a drink there." The guards laughed more. Guy's patience was wearing thin. "Then aren't you going to untie me?"

"You can untie yourself, I saw you rubbin' the rope back and forth."

"Yes, if you hadn't noticed by now the ropes are thick, hence why I'm still here." Guy growled getting more and more annoyed. "Alright then. You can have a drop of water- when we reach London." That sent the guards howling with laughter. "But he'd be dead by then."

"Oh aren't you a fast one, Sam." Snapped another guard, making them roar with laughter again. "Fine by me. I'd rather die of thirst than listen to your constant babbling, anyway." That earned him a punch in the face, leaving a purple bruise to bloom. "Got quite a sharp tounge hadn't you? We'd better cut that out before you cut yourself free with it, eh?" The guard spat, grabbing him by the lapels. _'Serves you right.'_ His demon stated. _'Look at you. You're pathetic.'_ Guy tried his best to push his demons to the back of his mind. He rested his against the tree again, trying to find to most comfortable piece if bark to rest his head against. The was a loud crack of fire burning wood. Guy's captors had managed to lit a fire. But, it was small, too small to cook anything on it so they chucked some more wood on it, letting it grow. Within no time at all, there were two rabbits roasting on it, the brightness stun Guy's eyes a little but he got use to it. Luckily the wind wasn't blowing in his direction otherwise he'd have a face full of smoke. The fire spat again, sending half a dozen of little flares into the air. From the distance they covered, Guy assumed that they were close to the southern most border of Nottinghamshire.

Out of the corner of his eye, Guy saw a silhouette of a man on horseback riding this way, kicking up some dust on the horizon. He turned his head more to get a better look- it was sir Jasper. He groaned inside. That was the last thing Guy needed. He rode his horse close to the little camp, then dismounted, giving his horse to the guards. "Still withering in filth, Sir Guy?" He boomed, full of arrogance and himself. "Still licking the prince's boots, Sir Jasper?" Guy snarled. Guy had expected Jasper to retaliate but instead he laughed then his face turned serious. "Just look where it has gotten me." He muttered so the guards wouldn't hear. "You don't scare me, Guy. You've lost everything... Again." Sir Jasper added with a smirk on his face, leaving Guy to wonder how Jasper had learnt such things. "But it doesn't matter now, soon you'll be dead. Your body will be hanging from London bridge for all to laugh at." He gloated. "I suppose it could have been worse, I mean having to listen to child-minded Prince all day is a fate worse than death." Guy snapped back, surprised at his own words. Sir Jasper turned bright red as the sky behind him. "I'll tell him you said that! Perhaps we could teach you what really is a fate worse than death." An infuriated Sir Jasper responded. "What? Having to listen to you all day?" Guy smirked with the guards trying to conceal their laughs too in the background. Jasper hit him hard in the stomach, forcing Guy to bite his tongue to stop him from crying out. "We'll see who gets the last laugh because from what I've heard is working for the devil, I mean sheriff is far worse than death. Yes, we've heard how the pair of you manage to muck things up in the holy land. Some girl got murdered there too, didn't you hear."

Guy was left speechless, winded from both his punch and his words. If he was untied he would probably be trying to kill that man. "You were always a man of few words. Prince John says he's really looking forward to meeting you." Then he turned to his guards. "Keep him in 'adequate' condition. I want to see his head roll from his shoulders." He laughed again the mounted his horse and sent it galloping into the fading light leaving Guy shaking with rage. _'He will be next on my death list, second to Vaisey.'_ Guy thought to himself. But before he could take action, he remembered where he was- bound to a tree watching some guards roast two hares over a small fire. He needed to get back to Nottingham and plot his revenge. But how? Guy did not possess the charms Allan A Dale had nor the luck of Hood or the strength of Little John. He would have wait for the opportunity to arise, then snatch it without hesitation. But for now, Guy would have to learn to control his unpredictable temper and play it nice if he wanted to survive. He watched the guards sit around the fire, basking in its warmth. Guy was too far away to share the fires heat and he was still thirsty plus hunger staring clawing at his stomach. "He's going to be like a stick by the time we reach London." Stated one of the guards, taking his helmet off. "How long do you think he'll last?" Asked another, acting as though Guy didn't exist. "I bet you five pounds we'll be dragging him by the end of tomorrow, Sam."

"You don't even have five pounds, Lee. You spend all your coin on ale."

"I bet he has five pounds." Lee suggested looking at Guy with greedy eyes. "You'd be surprised how little the sheriff pays me." Guy said, trying to engage in the conversation. "You know what else surprises me? How you live with yourself." Sneered Lee. "Aye, we've all heard of your misdeeds. When we reach London, your ears will be bleeding from the sound of your own screaming." Snarled Sam with hatred and venom on his voice. "That's an awful lot of big words coming from someone as small as you." Spat Guy, not used to being talked at like that. A vein started to throb on the side of Sam's head. Too angry for words, He got up and sent another punch flying to Guy's head, sending him into the void.

It must have been just past midnight when Guy's demons woke him with the usual nightmares. His rapid breath was the only thing that could be heard in the darkness. The fire had burnt far too low to give off any real warmth. The guards lay asleep, having eaten well and their horses lay quietly, hobbled. Guy's head was pounding like a thousand drums playing behind his eyes and it felt as though his throat was made of sand. To add to his list of troubles his stomach started complaining too. On the brighter side, the guards were asleep and Guy had the rest of the night to work at the ropes. The opportunity had finally arisen! He set to work at them as he once before, rubbing them back and forth, slowly but surely wearing it down.

After half an hour or so Guy stopped to catch his breath, his arms felt like lead. The rope must have been thicker than he thought because his Labour had seemed to get him nowhere. He shut his weary eyes and tried to remember how the outlaw had done it. He rubbed the rope quickly, consuming a lot of energy. Guy, strong as he was, didn't have a lot of energy, at least not in that point of time. So he waited, propping his head against the tree in a slightly awkward position to stop him from falling asleep. After an hour, or what felt like an hour, Guy set to work on the ropes once again, using the outlaws tactics this time.

And it worked. Guy cut through the rope, moving his sore arms as fast as he could until... snap!

The wild beast was unbound!

Immediately, he got up and stretched his sore limbs then looked around for a sword. Guy hadn't planned to get this far and was debating what to do with the guards. Guy was considering to let them live if they had been more fair to him, but Guy couldn't have people knowing he was alive... yet. So quietly as he could, he drew a sword hanging from Sam's waist, clamped his hand over Sam's mouth then slit his throat. The guards still lay asleep, snoring loudly. Guy did that with the second and third guard, spilling crimson blood over their uniforms and the ground. Finally, he turned to Lee, who had his body slumped up against a tree. This time, he wanted to see the light fade from his eyes, so he plunged his sword into his chest until he could feel the tip of it hit the tree behind him. "You..." Lee gasped, his blue eyes wide with shock and his face twisted into an expression of pain and pure hatred. He tried to draw his sword with a shaking hand but them Guy tore his sword from Lee's body, then he fell limp and dead.

"Yes, me."

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_Ok, so this is my first fanfic so far, so please review, keep it nice but everyone's entitled to an opinion and improvements are welcome. I will probably add another chapter by or within the week. Thanks_


	2. Target Practice

_Forgot to mention rating might go up to T in later chapters._

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**Chapter Two; Target Practice**

Guy's legs were sore from riding as the sun began to raise through the trees, forcing him to put a hand up to his eyes. Guy had been riding throughout the night and early morning until he could see signs of daylight coming, then he made his way through the woods. He couldn't take the risk of being seen on the road.

To be honest, Guy didn't really know what to do or where to go.

On one hand, he was tempted to return to the sheriff and carry on as he did before. On the other hand, he wanted to kill Vaisey. His mind went round in circles, both waging a deadly war;

_Go to the sheriff, get your lands back._

_I would rather die then go back with him. _

_You will deny everything you killed for?_

_Even if I wanted to, the sheriff will not welcome me, to say the least, when he hears I killed Prince johns men. _

_If he finds out._

_He will eventually, he is the sheriff._

_Well it's better than going around killing people and him._

_No it's not. He deserves to die! I will be outlawed either way._

_Do you not remember the agreement with the sheriff and the Prince?_

_Hood will save the people, that's his job._

_Have you even planned on how to kill him. The old sod has eyes on the back of his head._

The other half of Guy's mind knew exactly how to kill him.

First he would kill those close to him- a few guards gone disappearing in the night, perhaps one of his precious birds hanging dead from the ceiling. Guy knew how to get into the castle undetected, a secret passageway built in case Prince John came to get rid of the sheriff. _But if Vaisey knew I was doing the killings, then he would seal off the passage_. Guy thought. So he had to go in disguise.

Guy cringed at the thought of that, the thought of him, being the peasants hero after killing so many of them. _'No, I will not be like Hood. I will kill the sheriff, steal some money and leave Nottingham.'_ The problem was, was the same as when his parents were killed- he had no where to go. The only family Guy had that was still alive was his sister who he'd sold to another man and his uncle in northern France who was almost as bad as the sheriff. Perhaps, he could lend his fighting skills to some other rich Lord and make a living as a mercenary.

But Guy was ambitious. He wanted power, wealth and most of all- land that he could call his own. But the cost for that was high. Was Guy prepared to work with another sheriff who was just as bad or worse than Vaisey? _'No.'_ Guy's demons were already pushing him over the edge to insanity. He couldn't take doing something like that again. "Then what should I do?!" He cried out in rage to himself, making his horse whine a little. He leaded forward in his saddle and stroked its neck, trying to calm it. Only did Guy realize that he wasn't the only one tired. He had ridden his horse for hours without a drink. Without further thought, Guy dismounted his horse, took its reins and lead it through the forest until Guy heard a familiar sound of water crashing down on rocks and water. He had reached a small waterfall that gave way to a river, about four meters across and got wider as it continued south. The thick oak trees disappeared as he got closer, only to be replaced by thin, silver birch trees. The ground around the river was a sea of small pebbles mixed with fallen leaves. His horse drank greedily from the river and so did Guy for they were both thirsty. The water was like ice and it chilled both man and horse to the bone but it was also refreshing, especially after a long ride.

After he had drunk his fill, he scooped some more water up with his hand, though most of it spilled out, and be splashed it on his face. Guy caught his reflection in the ripples of the water- His eyes were bloodshot, from lack of sleep, his hair was dirty and matted, his face was jewelled with droplets of water and the purple bruise stood out against his pale skin.

'_I do look like an outlaw._' Guy reminded himself. It seemed as though the right-hand man of the sheriff who wouldn't hesitate to obey every order had vanished. Perhaps he had gone for a quick walk somewhere and got delayed or perhaps... he had gone to live somewhere else and left for good. Either way it didn't really matter to Guy where the other part of him had gone off to.

Guy walked over to his horse and flipped open one of the saddle bags. Inside lay some oats. He took a handful and fed it the horse who licked it up hungrily. Next Guy lifted up its leg to check its hooves. It seemed as though the horse had shoes been put on recently. Once he checked everything, Guy mounted again and rode away from the river. Before he did anything too serious, he wanted to go to Locksley manor, in secret of course, and then he could make his mind up.

It was a day's ride from the boarders of Nottingham to Locksley and by the time he had got there, it was pitch black with only a thin slither of moon to illuminate the darkness. Guy didn't mind the dark, but he disliked the cold air with nothing but his leather to keep him warm. When he reached him manor, he took his horse around the back and lead it to the stables where there was both fresh water and food for it. Now he had to find a way into his house without alerting the guards. Expect, there was no guards to alert. Guy could have sworn he had posted guards around the manor. He cursed them for their laziness but then he remembered, Guy was meant to be dead, or waiting for death at least.

Then he feared the worst- That Locksley manor was in possession of someone else. He almost ran to the door, his dagger ready in hand, pulled out the key and twisted it till it clicked open. Guy then opened the door slowly so that it wouldn't creak and sneaked upstairs in the darkness. The door to his room was partly open. Guy pushed it without hesitation, ready to kill but instead he found his bed empty too. He breathed a sigh of relief. Everything was as it was when he left it, apart from the bed that was newly made. He smiled to himself, lay down his sword, took off his leather jacket and sunk his head into pillows, letting sleep take him with ease.

_The king of England lay in pain on the hard dusty ground, an arrow sticking through his shoulder. Guy advanced on him, his sword in hand ready to kill him. The sun made his face and neck become covered in sweat, making him wish he hadn't worsen the usual black leather as he did in England. 'This is it,' Guy thought, 'this is my chance.' And then Marian appeared, her face glowing radiantly and her eyes swarming with a number of emotions. "Guy stop." She whispered in a voice that wasn't hers, "don't do this." Guy ignored her pleas and continued walking till she said something that made him stop in his tracks. "I love Robin Hood. I love Robin Hood. I love Robin Hood." She repeated over and over in his mind like a mantra. "I will never be yours. I belong with Robin." Those final words made Guy snap and before he realised it, he felt his blade pierce flesh in an all-too familiar way. His sword was sticking through Marian's stomach, spilling crimson blood on the dry ground. At that moment he felt his world shatter into a million pieces as her body hit the ground with a thud. What had he done? Then Guy saw Marian's pale, ethereal ghost rise from her broken body. She stared at him with pale eyes and then the king and Acre disappeared, fading into the background. "Why? Why did you do it?" She demanded. Guy tried to speak but no words came out. "I thought you loved me, Guy, I thought I was everything to you."_

_"You are-" he protested. "How can I believe you when you have killed me!" She shrieked, twisting her face into something demonic. "Why did you have to come along and wreck everything! You're nothing but murderer, a born killer from the start!"_

_Suddenly, to Guy's relief, Marian turned into the women he knew and loved. "Prove it to me, Guy. Prove to me that you still love me." Marian's ghost whispered. "How?" He whispered back, hanging on the edge of her every word. "The only thing you know is how to kill, all your kindness is long gone. There is but one thing you must do. Kill the man who started it all. Kill the sheriff!"_

Guy woke up with a jump, covered in cold sweat. '_What a strange dream._' Guy thought to himself, the morning sunlight illuminating his room. Normally he would never be able to remember what his nightmares about, only that they had made him wake up with his pulse hammering like a thousand drums. But this dream was different. It was so... vivid. He almost felt like he was back in Acre for a second.

_'Kill the sheriff.'_ The phrase had stuck in his mind like a command. Guy no longer cared what he would do after it or whether Prince John raised Nottingham to the ground.

_'Kill the sheriff.'_ It would be hard, yes, Guy had accepted that. But it was what required of him to redeem himself in Marian's dead eyes and he, would follow it through no matter what the cost.

Guy put on a fresh change of clothes on, then headed downstairs. Thornton was there, sitting by the table lost in thought. His old head turned at the sound of Guy's feet walking down the stairs. Guy thought he almost died of shock. "S-Sir Guy." He stammered, coming to his senses. "Yes, Thornton." Guy replied cooly. He opened his mouth, struggling to find the right words. "I... we t-thought you were d-dead. My lord." He added on the end, remembering his manners. "I will be if you don't cook me up some breakfast." He snapped. Thornton hurried away then returned ten minutes later with a bowl full of porridge and honey. "Sit." Guy commanded. Thornton was rarely asked to sit at his table. "Now tell me," Guy commanded, swallowing a mouthful of porridge, "what has happened since I left."

"Well, not much new, my lord. James and Beth are expecting a child-"

"Not here, in Nottingham!" Guy almost shouted. He was in a bad mood today, probably from the lack of sleep. "I believe the Abbott of Kirklees has come to visit, my lord." Thornton answered, fear in the old man's voice. "And the sheriff? Has he replaced me?"

"No, but I think he'll be happy to have his right hand man back from the dead."

"No, that's where your wrong." Guy said. Thornton looked confused. "You must tell no one I'm here, you never saw me. You have served me well these past few years, Thornton, but if you tell a single soul then I swear I will kill you."

"Of course Sir Guy. You were never here, I never saw you." He mumbled as he got up from the table, leaving Guy to eat his porridge. "Get me some bread too." He shouted after him. Thornton was a man who wanted no trouble, Guy had learnt that, but it made him easy to threaten. He had no doubts that Thornton would stick to his word. He returned with a plate of bread and grapes just as Guy had finished eating the last of his porridge. Thornton scuttled away, knowing better to leave Guy and his explosive temper.

He sat back into the chair, nibbling the bread in one hand. Guy's head was swarming of ways to kill the sheriff. Should he do it secretly or fight him in public? Should he poison his food or just shoot him down when he wasn't looking?

In the end, Guy followed through with his original plan. He would kill those close to the sheriff, get a few rumours flying around. Guards gone missing in the dead of night, peasants found dead in their sleep, perhaps a Nobel or two. '_It would be perfect_.' He thought. Then he would wait for the opportunity to arise and strike. Guy could almost imagine the terrified look on the sheriff's face when he saw that Guy was the one who was behind the killings.

The sound of horse hooves thundering on the ground pulled Guy out of his fantasy. Thornton shuffled to the door to check who it was. "It's the sheriff." He hissed. Guy shot up and raced upstairs to his room where he could observe without being seen.

Sat on his white horse was the sheriff of Nottingham with half a dozen guards. There was some else there too, in a carriage. From the cross that hanged from his neck, Guy guessed it was the Abbott of some church.

"People of Locksley," the sheriff announced, wasting no time, "last night, the Abbott of Kirklees came to me for my help. It seems that Robin Hood and his gang of rats have stolen from the church!" Muttering broke out throughout the villagers like fire. The sheriff dismounted his horse.

"I know that you know Robin Hood. I know that some of you have come to look upon him as a friend. Do not be fool. Since his return from his travels, Hood has become a satanic killer!" More gasps of shock came from the villagers, but the sheriff wasn't finished yet. "Anyone harbouring him will be damned to a heretics death at stake where-" he grabbed the child nearest to him arm. "-the flesh shall be burnt from the bones." The sheriff let go of the fear-struck child and continued to strut around. "Now, the Abbey is under my protection. I've tripled the guards just in case Hood tries to steal again." Taking a breath, the sheriff demanded, "if this village does not assist me in the capture of Hood then it is deemed infected with evil, and should be wiped clean of every, living, creature." He glanced at the Abbott who stood up and extended his arm so everyone could see his ring. "By the power vested in me, by his holiness the Pope, I issue this holy edict. It's every man, women and child sacred duty to help bring the demon, Robin Hood to justice!"

Guy, who had watched from his bedroom window smirked. It was funny how much influence the church had over the everyone. Guy couldn't care less if he was damned a heretic- he would go to hell anyway.

Boredom soon hit him like a tidal wave. Pleasant as it was in Locksley manor, Guy wasn't one for wasting time. But if he were to kill someone, it would have to be in the dead of night, where he could escape more easily. The consequences were too severe if he was caught.

To pass the time, Guy drew a target on the back of his door with chalk, then started throwing knives at it. '_Who to kill, who to kill?_' He mused to himself. '_Perhaps a few peasants in Clun? No, the sheriff wouldn't care if someone murdered a peasant.'_ He threw a knife, hitting the centre of the target. '_Guards gone missing in the night? Yes, that'll be good. For now._' Guy thought, throwing another one of his razor-sharp daggers, planting itself next to the other dagger. The more Guy thought about it, the more he realised how difficult this might be. The sheriff did all the planning when they had to kill the king. Another dagger hit the wood. He would start off small first, till Guy got used to invading the guards. Stealth wasn't his strongest point; Guy just liked to get it over and done with, but he would have to learn if he wanted to put an end to the sheriff.

The door creaked open, just as was about to throw another dagger. This time he aimed at the door frame, making poor Thornton jump a mile. He poked his pale aged face around the door. "Sir Guy, I brought-" He said, then his eyes flickered to the door. "The door..." he gasped. "Target practise." Guy replied, raising an eyebrow, indicating to Thornton that he should continue. "I brought you some wine, my lord."

"There is no need, I won't be drinking tonight." Thornton gave Guy a puzzled look. Guy always had a glass of wine. "Might I ask why, my lord?"

"No, you may not."

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_Good? Bad? Let me know._


	3. The Night Watchman

**Chapter 3; The Night Watchmen**

Night had fallen on Nottinghamshire, cloaking everything in darkness. Everyone was asleep, apart from one man. Guy of Gisborne lurked in the shadows of Nottingham castle, ever grateful of the secret passage the sheriff had built. As he planned, he would sneak into the castle and kill a majority of the guards that were left. He wore his usual leather with an added cloak on back. But with his hood up and a cloth over his face making only his eyes visible, no one would recognise him.

Guy left the safety of the throne room and sneaked through the corridors. Even though he tried his best to keep his footsteps quiet, they found a way to echo through the gloomy corridors. Nottingham seemed so different at night. Without the busyness of the day, it seemed eerie and forbidding. Guy liked it this way. He liked Nottingham castle when the sheriff wasn't around to haunt the place.

Two shadows appeared, followed by the amber glow of a torch. _Guards!_ Guy almost panicked and ran but he kept his nerve and ducked behind a banner, leaving only his feet visible. They marched straight past him. _'How could I forget how stupid they are?' _Guy thought to himself. He stepped out of his hiding place and tailed the guards until he got close enough and slit their throats, decorating the floor with their blood. _'Each kill will bring me one step closer to Vaisey.'_ He told himself, '_then Marian will forgive me and the demons will leave.'_ It was the lie he convinced his torn mind with.

Guy walked down the corridors with more confidence in every stride. Another pair of guards walked down the corridors near the dungeons. Guy let them spot. "Hey! You!" One of them shouted. They dashed after him, drawing their sword. Guy walked around a corner, as if he didn't have a care in the world. They followed him, but Guy was waiting for them and before the guards could land a blow, they were lying on the floor in a pool of their own blood. He stepped over them and headed deeper into the castle, getting further away from the throne room. Tonight, Guy felt bold. Tonight, he would test how strong the sheriff's defences really were.

Guy walked at a furious pace towards the sheriff's chambers, killing a few guards on the way. Mad thoughts of how he was going to kill Vaisey entered his mind; A dagger in his back, a knife in his stomach, crushing his little throat like a twig or lobbing the ugly head off his shoulders. Whichever way stopped the vile heart that pumped poison into his veins, Guy didn't care, so long as he was dead. He could almost taste the revenge on his lips.

The knight was getting close. He knew the castle by the back of his hand. He turned round a corner. Two guards looked at him, eyes wide in shock. He drew two throwing daggers, expecting them to come running at him but instead they ran away, raising the alarm.

It took him a second to register what had happened. Guy swore to himself. Moments later, bells were ringing and the sound of more guards was coming his way. He sprinted down the corridors and stairs, jumping over dead bodies of those he slain, and, at one point almost slipping of the blood. "There!" Guy heard a voice. Guards started pouring in from everywhere. '_Where did they all come from?'_ A sole guard came running at him. Guy simply planted his dagger into the guards chest and pushed him out the way, hardly breaking stride. He forced his protesting legs to run even faster. This was not how he had pictured it at all. Guy thought he could kill a few people and be over done with it. He should have known better, there was always someone who messed everything up. The sound of armour clinking and footfalls came nearer, not from the corridor Guy came from, but the one ahead. _'No, it can't end, not like this.'_ Guy had a purpose, a mission. He had to kill the sheriff, no matter what. _'God knows what the sheriff would do to me.'_ He couldn't begin to imagine the ways in which he would be tortured. The two footsteps drew nearer, Guy looked around helplessly for an escape. There was a boarded-up window to his left and a small door to his right. Without hesitation, Guy shoved it open and hopped in dark room. He raised a hand to his head, wiping away all cobwebs floating around him.

"You idiot, you let 'im get away!" Guy heard a guard shout. His breathing was so loud he thought the guards outside his door would hear it.

"Oh grow up will you? You're always jumping at shadows."

"I swear to you, it was the Night Watchman. He's back."

It felt as though someone put a knife in his stomach when they mentioned that name.

"Nonsense! The Night Watchman finished ages ago. He almost got hanged, God bless him."

"Honestly, I saw him. He was going to kill me."

"And I saw the ghost of Nottingham castle yesterday too. I thought the Night Watchman never killed, only gave 'em food."

"But-"

"Here now, you've worked too many night shifts, lad. Made you see things that weren't there."

"I'm telling the truth. Who killed the others then? How do you explain that?"

The guard remained silent. "Oi, you two! Stop yappin' and get back to work." Another voice roared. Two pairs of footsteps faded into the background. _'That was close. Too close.'_ Guy thought. Now the guards were alert and he was the Night Watchman. Guy made sure he looked completely different from the Night Watchman. For one, the Night Watchman didn't wear thick leather or go around killing people at random. Or perhaps anyone the guards saw sneaking around after dark was immediately classed as the mythical Night Watchman? '_What would Marian think of me now? I've been doing what she wanted me to do all long.'_ Immediately Guy banished those thought to the back of his mind. _'No, no. I mustn't think like that.'_ But it was too late. His demons were back with vengeance. _'Kill the sheriff we said. What have you done? Killed innocents.'_ Hissed the demon. _'Guy, you fool. How long did it take you to realise wrong from right?'_ Fear and stress choked him. It felt as though the walls were closing in. Without checking, Guy burst through the doors, breathing heavily. The guards were still alert and looking for him. He charged through the corridors like a hurricane, killing a guard on his way. He didn't care if anyone saw him and recklessness took over his mind. He was almost there. Fear put wings on his feet as he charged into the throne room and slipped into the secret passage.

It was still dark outside and raining. Like the weather, Guy's mood wasn't improving. He was out of breath with no food or water and he wasn't entirely sure of his way back to Locksley. The darkness distorted the forest into something unrecognizable. He could just about make out the outlines of the gravestones. It was a small graveyard and a small Abbey next to it. Guy hadn't been in an Abbey before, not since he was a boy, and he didn't plan on starting now. And even if he did stay there for the night, he knew the priest there and didn't trust him the slightest. The wind blew harder, carrying rain as if to push Guy out of there. The knowledge that he had filled half the graveyard alone was enough to send him on his way. '_Great, another night wandering around in this blood forest.'_ He complained to himself. The crescent moon shone down on him weakly through the heavy rain clouds. He wished he had taken his horse. Guy stopped feeling sorry for himself and walked in the direction he thought was home.

It was getting lighter as Guy returned to Locksley. He was cold, wet and hungry and wanted nothing better than a nice, long bath. The small village was still fast asleep but it wouldn't be too long till they woke up. Guy dragged his feet to the front door of Locksley manor and opened the door. "THORNTON!" He yelled. Moments later Thornton appeared from the servants quarters. "Yes, Sir Guy." He yawned. "Run me a bath, will you?"

"Right away, my lord." He mumbled. Guy tossed his soaking cloak on the hook then one of the servants whom he had woken up fetched him a bone-warming bowl of soup and bread. Soon the soup and bread disappeared and his bath was ready. Guy dipped his naked body into the warm arms of the water, letting his muscles relax and unwind. He was so tired, yet every time he closed his eyes, he could see the face of Marian, twisted by his demons. It began to drive him sane until the familiar rumbling of horse hooves came and an even more familiar voice;

"People of Locksley," the sheriff announced. _'Just what I need.' _Guy moaned inwardly. "This, is one of Hoods men. Last night he broke into the Abbey." He pronounced each word slowly, letting them to sink in. The sheriff's voice found a way to be heard even from the manor. "Look at him," he continued, "trapped like a wild animal caught in a snare. Is this how you want to end up? I'm your friend-" Guy scoffed at those words, and it seemed the villagers shared his thoughts too. "-Yes, I know, we've had hard times but we will come through. Now, who will help me capture Robin Hood, hmm?"

A deathly silence followed.

"Are you so blind that you cannot see. I am not your enemy- Hood is! I have not forsaken you, forsaken God- Hood has. If you do not aid me in the capture of Robin Hood, then things will only get worse, beginning with our friend here, who will be torn apart on the rack tomorrow. And unless you want the same for you and your loved ones, then you'd better come to your senses." And with those last words, the sheriff and his men rode off taking, poor brother Tuck with them.

Guy had heard same thing too many times before. He felt slightly sorry for Tuck, but couldn't help smile with mad glee at the opportunity that had arisen. While the sheriff was busy playing out his little execution games, Guy could sneak into the castle and kill another person. '_Not a guard this time, someone important. The Abbott!'_ If Guy wanted to completely seal his way to Hell, then that was the way to go. One the other hand, it was very bad luck to kill a holy man. He knew a man who had killed a priest. The day after, his wife died by being trampled by a cow, then all his cows died of some strange disease. Also, all his chickens stopped laying eggs and his son got thrown in the dungeons for a crime he did not commit. In the end, the man died by falling off his horse that got spooked by a snake. Guy wasn't superstitious as most were, but he didn't want to try his luck either. '_Not the Abbott then.'_ The sheriff never had any visitors. He always complained that they did nothing but leech off his resources and gold. _'It had to be someone important, that he relied on, someone who mattered to him.'_ Guy racked his brain to find an answer, but his search was fruitless. The only thing the sheriff really cared about were his birds. Guy never did like the way they stared at him, with those big amber eyes. It was as though they were waiting for the order to peck him to death. '_I will try to rest tonight, then hunt at midday.'_ Most of the guards would be at the court-yard, watching Tuck die and if Hood showed up... it would be even more great. Guy knew the sheriff would have every man and his dog chasing him.

Guy got out of the bath, dried himself then slipped on a fresh set of clothes and headed to his room. He paced back and forth. Now all he had to do was wait for night to come. But Guy was tired of waiting around for night to come. He couldn't wait to get back into to Nottingham but his instincts told him he had to be more careful this time. Guy didn't want to get caught. Then a plague of doubts swarmed over his mind. What was he thinking? Guy couldn't kill the sheriff. Both Marian and Hood failed to do it, what made him much different? And there was still the threat of Prince John and his army, there was no way he could avoid that.

_'Hood will save the people. That's what he's for.' _

_'They will be left homeless, at the mercy of the elements. Marian wouldn't want that.' _The other demon argued.

_'They left you homeless when your home was burned to the ground. They left you to the mercy of the Sheriff!'_ The demon hissed. Guy couldn't argue against that reason. Guy's cunning mind set to work on the easiest way to kill Vaisey. He knew the sheriff well enough and he would be strongest in the castle, so Guy had to ambush him outside of Nottingham, either in the accused forest of Sherwood or the muddy villages.

Guy stopped pacing and gazed out the window. It was just gone past midday, the villagers were swarming around, doing whatever villagers did. Guy longed to go outside and walk through the tall green trees and ride his horse through the fresh grass, throwing knives into the sunset like he did when his was a boy. But he rarely had any days off when he was with the Sheriff and now Guy was trapped in his own house. He couldn't show his face just yet. But perhaps he didn't have to show his face. A smile flickered across his face. If he was clad as what others saw as the _'Night Watchman,'_ Then Guy could take his horse out into the forest.

So he followed through with that plan. In the spare bedroom, the bars on the window were loose. Guy, with some simple food of honey and oats along with a few apples, slipped out, landing on his feet. He then went to fetch his horse and took it by the reins, leading it out into the fresh air. Only did Guy mount it when they were a reasonable distance from Locksley. He'd forgotten what Sherwood was like when it was lit up by the faint sunlight. It was good to out, roaming the land freely. The cold air refreshed his lungs with a light mist descending on Sherwood Forest, acting as an extra cloak of invisibility and the spiders webs glistening like a thousand diamonds on a string by the roadside. Birds sang happily in the trees and the cold wind sent a dozen of leaves dark green dancing in the air. '_It's good to be free.'_ Guy thought.

He spurred his horse, sending it galloping throughout with woods with the wind pulling his hair back, out of his face. Guy drew a throwing knife and let it bury itself in the centre of the tree that hid behind a thin curtain of mist. He rode on, then twisted in his saddle and lunched another deadly knife. He drew two more blades and throw them, both hitting a tree side by side. He would retrieve his daggers on the way back.

Guy kicked his horse to go faster still, racing through the forest as though the devil was after him. The trees were nothing but green smudges as he charged past them. He could feel the heavy breathing of his horse underneath him. Guy hadn't ridden it in a while and it probably wasn't used to being pushed so fast. He slowed the horse down to a trot. The trees began to get less dense as he continued forward until he found himself on blackened, charred ground. Guy dismounted to investigate, the blackened ruins crunched beneath his boots. It was obvious it was some ruins of a burnt down house; most of the frame that wasn't in a pile of rubble was nothing but a stump of chalk-white wood. The trees were hardly visible. '_It must have been a big fire.'_ Guy thought. Then he realised it.

Guy was standing where Knighton Hall was.

Guy's mind screamed at his legs to move but they might have well been rooted into the ground like mountains. He stood there for some time with his mouth slightly open. Everything was still. Not even his horse dared to break the spell of silence. Guy closed his eyes. The very thought that Marian lived here, grew up here, laughed here, and that he'd burnt it all down. The same with his parents. It rocked him to the core. He opened his eyes. Marian stood in front of him, like the way she did in his dreams. Guy didn't flinch, he didn't move a muscle, just dreaded what she would say. _'Go, you are not welcome here.'_ She hissed. _'You were meant to kill the sheriff. He is not dead.'_

_'He will be.'_ Guy answered calmly. _'You will fail. You will get caught and you will die.'_

_'Do I care?'_

_'If you truly loved me, you would kill the sheriff.'_

_'I'm not sure I do. You belong to Hood. All you have done is sent a plague of demons to push me closer to insanity.' _Marian then changed into his mother, Ghislaine of Gisborne. _'If you won't do it for her, do it for me and your dear sister. Only then will you be forgiven.'_

"But how?" Guy cried out loud. '_Don't ask me, I've never killed anyone before.'_ His mother answered, fading into the mist. "Wait!" Guy shouted, running into the mist. Marian or Ghislaine, whichever they were, were lost in the dense mist. Frustrated, he cursed at himself. "Now how am I meant to kill the sheriff?" He mumbled to himself, full of sarcasm. _'The same as you've done before, with a knife to his heart.'_ It wasn't his demons that answered that question, it was himself.

But another problem had arisen. With the mist so dense, how was Guy meant to navigate his way to Locksley in this mist? Guy saw the answer easily before he could get too worked up on it. He mounted his horse. Guy would go and collect his daggers, then hopefully they will lead him back to Locksley.

* * *

Guy's plan held true, as he sat at his table enjoying a heart-warming meal of roasted venison along with some simple vegetables. There was no doubt about it, Thornton was truly a great cook. Guy however, couldn't enjoy the food properly. Like most days, his mind was troubled. "Can I get you anything less, Sir Guy?" Thornton asked politely. "No, you have done enough. Leave me, I must think... about many things." That worried Thornton even more. It was unusual to see Guy without his volcanic temper or his normal scowl. Thornton left Guy to his thoughts.

Guy was still shaken by what he saw a Knighton today. There was no doubt that they were phantasm conjured up by his own twisted mind but the point they made still stood firm. Guy couldn't carry on with his reckless plan he went through with last night. It was by mere chance he managed to escape. But how else could he kill the sheriff? Guy was a soldier, a military leader, not a fully fledged assassin. That was probably why he failed in the holy land the first time round. The sheriff was the one who did most of the scheming. Night had collapsed on Locksley once again and it was getting late. Guy finished what he could of the delicious food but he seemed to have dropped his appetite when he went out for a ride. Guy marched upstairs and dived on his bed. He wasn't tired for once, in fact, he was the complete opposite in mind, but his body disagreed. And so, whether Guy liked it or not, restless sleep took over.

* * *

_Thanks for all the reviews. Sorry it's taken me awhile to update, I will publish a new chapter by the next weekend. This chapter is slightly longer than the other two. I don't know about you, I'm not 100% happy with it. Don't worry, it's just the beginning and Robin and the gang are not forgotten and will be breaking an entry in the next few chapters ;) thanks. _


	4. A Change of Tactics

**Chapter 4; A change of tactics**

Guy woke up, covered in cold sweat as usual. The morning light entered his room without permission and the sky was flecked with red and pink clouds dyed by the Sun. '_Today is the day.'_ He thought. He made up his mind- Guy would sneak into the sheriff's chambers, kill one of his pets then sneak back out or die in the attempt of trying. If he got caught... well, he had a small bottle of poison. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that. Wether or not it failed, he had to try. Fortunately, Guy had planned it all out better this time. Last time, he was reckless and consumed with madness, and it was night. The guards were more active in the night. This time however, Guy would go at midday and he wasn't going as the so-called,_ 'Night Watching.'_ Thornton found a set of guards armour, plain dark mail and a helmet that just left his eyes visible. It was a bit tight on his chest but no one would question him with it on.

Gisborne left his room and headed downstairs for some porridge Thornton had prepared him. The plain, watery oats satisfied most of his morning hunger. If he were to reach the castle by midday, he would have to move now. So, wasting less time as possible, he bundled up his chain mail armour and headed to the stables where he mounted his horse. He nudged it with his foot to send it trotting out into the open air.

Guy pressed his ear to the damp wood of the secret door, listening for any outside movement. If he had timed this right, then the sheriff should be near outside. Guy was just about to step into the throne room when he heard that all-too familiar voice. "Lovely day isn't it, Abbott? A lovely day for an execution." It felt as though his ears were swallowing poison. "Sheriff, this is wrong. You can't kill Tuck." The Abbott protested but his efforts were in vain. "Hmm, can't I, Abbott? If you hadn't noticed now Abbott. I am the sheriff of Nottingham." He mused. '_Kill him, kill him now.'_ His demon whispered. Guy hesitated. He opened the door slightly. The sheriff stood some distance from him, with his back turned. He drew his throwing knife. Just as he was about to realise it, the Abbott stepped in front of him. "He is a holy man, you-"

"La-di-dah-di-dah, I think it's about time now, actually."

"But-"

"Think of it this way; we either watch the monk get torn apart, or watch your little book roast in the flames." The Abbott held his tounge. "Good, now let's get with it, shall we?"

They both walked off. Guy swore at himself. He might never get an opportunity like that again. He waited for the footsteps to fade away, then poked his weary blue eyes to evaluate the room. It was empty. He stepped out of the darkness of the passage and into the well-lit room. Guy fitted in perfectly. He walked down the corridor, almost running to catch up with the sheriff, blade in hand. He could hear his foul voice bound off the walls like a contagious disease. Revenge consumed his body once again as he ran after the sheriff who turned a corner.

"Oi! You! What yer think you're doing?!" Guy spun around to see the bulky figure of another guard. Guy recognised him as the most recent captain of the guard, but he struggled to recall his name. "Are yer deaf or what?" He roared. Guy tried to keep calm, but his heart betrayed him. The captain folded his arms across him chest, making himself look bigger. Guy searched his brain for a plausible excuse, but then he thought of something better. Guy walked closer to him and stabbed him. The captain twisted his body just in time but Guy's knife caught him above the hip. "Why yer little bastard." He yelled as he threw a punch. Guy stepped back, missing the blow. The pair drew their swords and exchanged blows. The captain was the first to draw blood, as he waved his sword lazily but then he caught Guy with a shallow wound on his forearm. '_Let's finish this._' Guy had better things to do. He kicked the captain's knee, breaking it, sending him howling in pain. Taking advantage, Guy thrusted his sword into the captain's throat. His brown eyes widened in pain and his mouth fell open but he was unable to cry out. His body collapsed to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Guy tucked his sword into his belt, then looked for a place to hide the body. The was a door a couple of yards away but when Guy tried it, he found it locked. "Great." He muttered to himself sarcastically. His eyes flickered to the man he murdered. To his fortune, a set of keys hung off his belt. Guy snatched them without hesitation and tried each of the keys till the door clicked open. A trumpet sounded in the distance. He didn't have much time. He quickly dumped the heavy body and dashed to the sheriff's chambers. Servants and guards both gave him suspicious looks as he pushed past them. But Guy didn't care as he climbed the spiral staircase. Panting, he slowed his pace as he got to the top.

Two guards stood like stone sentinels outside the door. This place was more guarded than the rest of the castle, as he learnt from last night. He needed a way to get rid of them without killing. An idea popped into his mind. "HOOD!" Guy cried, as he lent against the wall. The two guards rushed up to him. "Where?" They demanded. "Downstairs... the sheriff..." Guy lied. The two guards charged downstairs. Guy smirked at the gullibility of the guards as he walked to the sheriff's chambers. It was messier than last time Guy recalled; many papers scattered the desk, his bed was unmade yet and feathers covered the floor. His prize buzzard sat there, gawking at the intruder. It opened its hooked beak and let out an ear-splitting screech, flapping its wings widely. "Shut up!" Guy hissed. He took his knife and sent it straight into the bird's heart. In a final act of revenge, the bird clamped down on Guy's knuckle, then fell dead. "Stupid bird." Guy growled at himself, blood leaking from his throbbing knuckle. It was definitely the sheriff's pet. Another trumpet sounded. Guy poked his head out the window and looked down on the sheriff, who was now making one of his little speeches. Guy turned to leave, but then something caught his eye- a large sack of gold called to him on the nest of papers. He snatched it without hesitation, with his unscathed hand. Next to it was a letter. Guy picked it up to read it, except, it was sealed. It was Prince John's seal. Immediately Guy tucked the letter away and finally fled the room.

"HOOD!" There was no mistake that it was the sheriff's voice and Robin had turned up for real. Numerous of guards sprinted to the courtyard. '_Time to go.'_ As Guy sneaked away from the crowd, he saw a door open. Allan 'A Dale scanned the surroundings then slithered out. Allan froze at the sight of the lone guardsman. His greedy eyes met Guy's, and then the large sack of gold hanging by his waist. Anger surged through him._ 'Traitorous little worm.'_ Guy thought, glaring at him. He should have expected no better.

"Alright mate, give us the gold and we can both walk away from this alive." Allan failed in his attempt to intimidate Guy. The ring of his sword being drawn answered for him. "Fine with me." Allan muttered, drawing his own short sword. Guy stabbed at him, determined to finish him, but Allan was as agile as a flea and evaded the attack. In response, Allan swung his own sword. Guy leant back, out-of-the-way but the steel tip managed to catch Guy's face, leaving a shallow mark on his skin. Their movements became faster as Allan earned himself a cut on his leg. Guy lunged at Allan again, missing him by a hairs breadth. Allan pushed him off as best he could, moving out of the corner Guy had driven him in.

"ALLAN, WE'RE GONNA BE LATE." Yelled the gruff voice of Little John. "Catch you later." Allan said, racing off down the corridors. Guy growled at Allah's back, then left Nottingham too.

* * *

Vaisey of Nottingham stormed through the castle like a tsunami, covered in black tar. People avoided the sheriff in general, but they stayed out of a one mile radius zone when he was in this mood. "Curse this tar!" He shouted out to himself, stomping around like a spoilt child. Everything seemed to pile up on him at once. He had letters to read, the Abbott to sort, Hood, Prince John and his godforsaken money. Was it really worth this much trouble just to maintain his seat of power? Of course it was, he just needed and execution to cheer him up.

_'The death __will __have to wait, Prince John comes first.'_ The sheriff thought as he marched up to his chambers. The first thing he realised was that there were no guards outside his door, and that the door itself was open. Vaisey frozen in his tracks, anger consumed by fear. Preparing for the worse, he drew his dagger silently. Inside, the room was a mess, as it had been for the part few weeks. Nothing much had changed, except his gold was nowhere to be seen. "Arrggg!" Vaisey roared in rage, throwing a book across the room. He was Too angry to ponder on who stole the little gold he had left. The sheriff paced about the room, then he felt something under his foot crunch. His prized buzzard was on the floor.

"Oh no..." Vaisey muttered, gazing at the dead bird. The sheriff happened to like a that bird. In fact, he perfected their company. They didn't ask for money, they did what you told them to do, they didn't complain. '_All the requirements Gisborne failed to meet.'_

He could feel another execution coming along. Or several.

Before he killed anyone yet, Vaisey had things to sort. Letters. Sitting on the pile of papers was an unopened letter, he could have sworn there was two. He sliced open the top with his knife and pulled out the parchment;

_'To Vaisey, Sheriff of-'_

Blah, blah, blah.

_'-New tax collector-'_

Blah, blah, blah.

_'-Ruthless Rufus-'_

Blah, blah, blah.

_'From the sheriff of Lincolnshire.'_

Vaisey crumpled up the paper and tossed it over his shoulder and opened the next letter. _'This tax collector better be good,'_ he thought, _'because if not...'_ The sheriff's mind drifted off into all the different ways he would torture him.


	5. Old Times Sake

**Chapter 5; Old times sake**

A week had passed in Locksley manor. So far, Guy had killed six men- a noble, four guards and a peasant who saw him. Rumours were running around like headless chickens. The main topic at every table was either about the heroics of Hood or the mysterious murderer. The _'Red Terror,'_ the peasants called him, probably because of the trail of blood he left behind, not because he wore red. But Guy made sure he wasn't their hero like the mythical Night Watchman. The name their wild imaginations conjured up was something to be feared. With or without a disguise, he was still feared anyway. However, the time of the Red Terror was soon coming to an end. Vaisey's death was nearer. Guy thought he had terrorized Nottingham enough and wanted to finish what he had started. The sheriff must die.

The knight layed on his bed and stared out the window. It had to be almost midday. Then the rumbling of hooves sounded again. Guy doubted it would be Vaisey. The sheriff rarely showed his face after he'd been humiliated by Hood and the Abbott. As the horses pulled to a stop, a voice was carried up to his window. But it wasn't the sheriff's. This time it was someone else. It was a tax collection. The voice was followed by the sound of pots smashing. "What does a man have to do to get some peace?" He mumbled to himself, then rolled over. A minute later there was an even louder smashing noise and a bang. Guy sat up, his volcanic temper was already reaching his limit. His gaze drifted to the opened letter on his table, the one he stole from the sheriff. He picked it up and read it again;

_'Vaisey. I asked simply for gold in exchange for power. You have failed to deliver, again, and my men have gone missing. I am your Prince, do you not love me? I want Hood dead and my gold by the end of this month. Otherwise... you won't be sheriff much longer, to say the least.'_

_Prince John._

Guy couldn't have been happier when he first read the letter but it didn't stop his anger. A scream sounded nearby. Guy rolled his eyes._ 'Can't they keep quiet for one minute.'_ He growled. Guy stormed downstairs, the stopped. A man sat there on _his_ chair with his feet up on _his_ table in _his_ house. The strangers smirk vanished at the look of anger on Guy's face. The tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Then his rage exploded. Guy advanced on him, drawing his sword. He was so determined to make him suffer, that he didn't notice Kate escaping. The intruder was on his feet, snatching his hook from the table, and retreating from the ghost of a man. "You..." Was all Guy managed to growl, eyes smoldered in hate like a raging furnace. The intruder fumbled for the door handle, then finally managed to open it, escaping into the daylight. Guy followed him, not caring that the eyes of the world were upon him._ 'No mere peasant steps foot in my house and comes back alive.'_

A battle-cry escaped Guy's lips as he swung his sword. The man ducked the sword, but failed to evade Guy's foot as it connected with his nose, giving a satisfying crunch. The man lay on the floor, his head spinning like a maelström. The terrified villagers watched the two men. "Get up!" He hissed. He wouldn't be happy until he had made an example of the intruder- and killed him.

Following Gisborne's orders, the man staggered up as though he was drunk. Taking his meat hook, he swung at Guy's stomach, but the knight was too fast. Guy punched him in the head, sending him down once again. _'Finish him.'_ His demons whispered. Standing over the wreak of a man, Guy plunged his sword in the man's heart, the blade getting tangled in the rib cage.

He looked around him. To describe the villagers as petrified was an understatement. Then Guy noticed, four guards stared at him with similar expressions, next to a small chest of silver. He glanced to the man he killed, then guards and the gold.

Guy had killed the new tax collector.

Not only that, he made himself known. Guy was supposed to be dead, or at least with Prince John getting tortured or killed in London. The sheriff would wanted to have seen him straight away. Or would he kill him? Had Guy outlived his usefulness and be killed, or worse still, subjected to tortured?

Everyone held their breath, waiting for the dead man's next move. Guy knew what he would do. Like he had done many times before, he drew a throwing knife and hurled it at the guard. Before the blade even left his hand, he knew the throw was perfect. The second guard barely had time to react, and before he realised it, he was dead too. The third guard was now aware of the threat that had arisen, and wisely, tried to turn his horse around to flee. But Guy's knife found a way to dig a grave in his back. He drew his last knife but the target was already on his horse and running out of the range of his deadly knives.

_'Codswallop.'_ Guy's steel eyes watched the figure on horseback race to Nottingham. It was the last thing he wanted. Guy walked over to the tax collectors body and wrenched his bloody sword free. He was so annoyed at himself, he didn't hear the villagers jaws hit the ground, Robin's included.

* * *

Robin of Locksley walked back to camp with the rest of the gang in silence. Even Much was quite, and left Kate wordlessly to find her own way back. Gisborne's actions left the whole of Nottinghamshire in shock. But what had scared Robin the most, was the fire in Guy's eyes. Pure malice and madness rolled into one. It was something he or anyone else had seen before. He knew that Guy was up to something, or something happened between him and the sheriff. It just wasn't him to sit in his house all day, then publicly kill the new tax collector and the sheriff's men. Why wasn't he collecting the taxes? What had he done to lose the sheriff's favour? How long had he been in Locksley? Vaisey rarely gave days off, but a week or two was enough to suggest that someone had kidnapped the real sheriff and someone was playing an imposter. And of course, there was the new threat of the _'Red Terror.'_ It seemed as though everything fell on his head at once.

"Right, what's for lunch then?" Asked Much. No one answered. "Oh cheer up you lot. It's only Gisborne."

"Exactly." Little John snapped. "I'm not being funny, but there's something going on here." Allan agreed. Robin sat down, his mind buried deep in thought. "I agree, something's going on and I can't place my finger on it." Robin said. Tuck didn't respond, his dark eyes gazed off into nothingness. "We still have the problem of the Red Terror, or whatever they call him, to deal with. The people are terrified." Robin continued. "But what about Gisborne?" John yelled. "Well what about him?" Robin asked. "We can't just leave him." Robin raised an eyebrow at John, who rolled him eyes. "He's not in Nottingham, he's not terrorizing the villagers as usual and he's killed the new tax collector. He, is up to something and whatever it is, I do not like."

"John is right. We need to find out what he's up to. It might do us some good." Tuck said at last. "Then how do you propose we get him to talk? Ask him politely?" Robin mocked, losing his patience. "We have a murderer to deal with," Robin continued, "it's only a matter of time till he strikes again."

"I'm not one to disagree with you, Robin, but we have nothing to go on. We don't know who, or what he is or even a plan." Much stated sheepishly. "I was going to think of one." Robin muttered, in better control of his temper. "I recommend that one of us should watch Locksley manor, while you can find the murdered." Tuck suggested. "You think that the Red Terror and Giz are mixed up in this?" Allan inquired. "If the Red Terror is targeting nobles then he would probably go after Gisborne. That way we can capture or kill him." Tuck explained. After a moment's thought, Robin nodded. "It's a good plan. Allan, you can take the first nights watch." Allan groaned inside at the thought of spending a night in the freezing cold, but he didn't show it. "Alright then. But I'll take some of that sheepskin coat."

* * *

The cold night air sunk its teeth into Allan's already frozen arm. The moon shone bleakly through the clouds, not offering any light to him. His orders were to watch the manor all night, but Allan, as usual, had thought of a better way to find out what Gisborne was up to.

He plucked a rock from the ground, then lobbed it at Guy's bedroom window. Allan could have picked the lock, or climbed through a window or broken the hinges off the door. But it was far more fun to throw rocks. Allan took another stone and threw it successfully. He heard the stone land on the wooden floorboards. He threw another one. A moment later the same rock was thrown back at him. Allan had successfully woken the Dragon from its lair. The faint outlines of Guy's annoyed face appeared through the bars. Allan twitched his head sideways, beckoning Guy to come. The face disappeared. Allan waited, shivering. Even the thick sheepskin Robin had given him wasn't enough to keep him warm. On the brighter side, the cold prevented him from falling asleep. On the hard-beaten path, Guy's rapid and unmistakable figure was approaching. "If you've come to sell me information-" Guy snarled, but was cut off. "I wouldn't dream of it." Allan replied dryly. "Out with it then." He growled, clearly enraged by being woken at such an hour. "Well... what's up?"

"What's up!? You've dragged me from my warm bed into the cold just to tell me what's up?" Guy demanded, his hand resting comfortably on his sword. "Yeah, you know. Old times sake." Allan said, unaffected by the waves of anger radiating off Guy. "If it weren't for you I would have succeeded in the Holy Land." And by that, Guy also meant Marian. "Don't blame me, you're the one who killed her." Allan corrected. Faster than Allan realised, Guy advanced on him, and pinned Allan to a tree with his fist. There was no time for banter, Allan got to the point. "Robin sent me to spy on you. He says your up to something." Allan croaked, struggling for breath. "Did he now? Tell him I said hello for me." Guy spat, his voice full of sarcasm. Allan's only response was a choking noise that escaped his crushed throat. Guy realised he was throttling him too hard. He slacked his grip ever so slightly, allowing him to breath a little, but not break free. "We need to know... what has happened to you and the sheriff? Why did you kill the new tax collector? What's new?"

"And why would I tell you about the latest gossip? Hood's getting jealous because I get a day off every once in a while?"

"The so-called _'Red Terror.'_ We need to put a stop to him-"

"_You_ can put a stop to him. I couldn't care less."

"Alright well, whatever. Anyway so the point is, who is the Red Terror? Is it one of the sheriff's plans?" Guy flinched inwardly. Hood on his tail was the last thing he wanted. "From what I know, it's nothing to do with the sheriff." Guy confessed, choosing his words carefully. "Well, that's all I really came here for, soooo if you'll kindly let me go..." Allan hinted. "One more thing," Guy said, "old times sake." And with that, Guy brought his elbow around, smacking Allan's face, sending him to the ground. "I'm not being funny but..." Allan grumbled. The moonlight shined down on Guy's face. Beneath the mess of dark hair, a pearly white scar ran across part of his face. He raised his sword, ready to finish the double-crosser. Allan shot up and before Guy could finish him, he dashed off into the night.

* * *

_Finally we can move away from all the phantasm crap and get onto the good stuff. Please tell me what you think ;)_


	6. Outlaw

**Chapter 6; Outlaw**

The sheriff sat on his wooden throne, a goblet of wine in one hand and the other resting on the arm of the chair. He drummed his fingers on the chair lightly. _'God, that tax collector better be worth the gold he's worth.' _Vaisey grumbled to himself. Gold weighed on his mind like a ton of bricks. Every little halfpenny lost to him was like a blow to him, leaving a scar that would take ages to heal. It didn't help with either Hood or the fairy-tale 'Red Terror,' nicking what little gold the sheriff had. It didn't make a difference now because there was nothing left to steal. Vaisey turned to the servant boy, shaking, holding a plate of fruits. "You, boy. Find Scrope. Now." The sheriff snarled, forever growing impatience. The tax collector was his only hope, but he daren't let that information slip to anyone. '_The only person you can trust is yourself, you both should know that by now. The gift of knowledge is what corrupts us humans, because knowledge is the key to power, and power is what we crave.'_ Vaisey recalled the words his mother told him and his sister when he was younger. How right she was. But it wasn't going to do him any good now. He needed gold, not power, and unfortunately for him, his mother hadn't stuck around long enough to tell him where a fountain of gold was.

"Where's Gisborne when you need him? Running off with Prince John." Vaisey snapped, although the room was empty. "He was cheaper too." He murmured. The sheriff was surprised they hadn't sent him Guy's head on a spike. That's what Prince John was infamous for, or so the sheriff heard. Vaisey had plans for this new tax collector, if he lived up to his expectations. He was going to win him over like he did with Gisborne many years ago, with land, power and wealth. Well maybe not so much wealth but land defiantly, so long as he if he proved himself more useful than Gisborne.

Fortunately, the boy didn't keep Vaisey waiting for long. Scrope, the treasurer, scuttled in with his usual fearful expression on his face. "Y- you called me, sheriff?" He trembled. "Yes. Where is the tax collector, Rufus, hmm?" The sheriff inquired, getting annoyed. He had a bone to pick with this tax collector or perhaps a whole skeleton. "He's... dead, my lord." Scrope stammered, his face turning deathly pale at the thought of how the sheriff would react.

_'Dead? Why hadn't no one informed me?'_

"How?" A baffled Vaisey wondered. "According to the villagers, Sir Guy of Gisborne killed him in Locksley." Scrope gulped at the look on the sheriff's face. "Gisborne..." The sheriff muttered, standing up and putting his hands on his head. The news made his anger vanish. _'He's meant to be with Prince John. Why is he in Locksley? Why didn't he come straight to me?'_ The sheriff pondered, then his mind naturally strayed to the worst. '_He doesn't have the gut to try and kill me. Does he?'_ Vaisey did leave him to the mercy of Prince John and his men. Prince John. _'But that means... he escaped and (most likely) killed Prince John's men.'_

"Oh dear God." Vaisey whispered out loud at what he had realised, forgetting Scrope was there. "W- what's wrong, sheriff?" Scrope stammered. The sheriff didn't answer, his face displaying an expression of true fear. But it lasted only a second. Vaisey's mind set to work on ways he could wriggle out of it. He glanced behind him, where his escape route lay, invisible to anyone apart from him. Vaisey knew that Prince John would hold him responsible, unless... he told them that Gisborne took the money off Prince John's men and killed them. But he would have to make it believable, something to back it up. The sheriff smirked statistically. It was simple. _'Make Guy an outlaw, blame him. It's about time I pay a visit to Locksley.'_

* * *

"Gisssbooorrne!" Guy woke early, his eyes snapped open. _'Did I dream that voice?'_ Guy thought, confused. He glanced outside his bedroom window, just to be sure. He wished it was a dream. By the manor it looked as if a black field of grass had grown over night, and at the centre of it was the sheriff. Immediately he pulled his crossbow out from under his bed and pointed it out the window. "Damn it." Guy hissed. He couldn't get a clear shot, not one that would kill Vaisey anyway. There was a dozen of guards there. It would be difficult, but with his throwing knives there was a good chance Guy could fight his way to the Sheriif and kill him.

Guy proceeded downstairs where the scent of cooked river trout grew stronger. There wasn't time to eat it. He picked his sword and twelve knives, one for each guard, and a travelling cloak around his shoulders, concealing his weapons. The sheriff might not even want to kill him anyway. It wasn't the first time he had killed someone without Vaisey's approval.

Guy had expected the sheriff to come racing to him when he heard what Guy had done. At first he cursed himself for the sheer foolishness, but now he realised that Vaisey was out in the open, away from the safety of his castle. No villagers would come dashing to the sheriff's aid, Guy was positive of that. He reached for the door handle, and hesitated. This was it. With a deep breath and a heart filled with anticipation, Guy stepped out into the blazing sunlight. The sheriff gazed at him with emotionless eyes, reflecting the venomous heart inside. Vaisey's horse whined nervously. He took out a scroll and unravelled it; "Sir Guy of Gisborne, from this day forth you are stripped of all land, titles and wealth. You cannot enter or be buried on Holy Ground, you are not permitted to marry, you will be hunted down by any man who sees fit. From the day hence forth, you are an outlaw!"

* * *

Outlaw? Guy did not see this coming. His body froze in shock. Everything he had and ever wanted, every life he had taken and destroyed, the things he'd worked for and sacrificed, was all for nothing. It was all in vain. Villagers too were paralyzed in astonishment, though their eyes were glued to the cracks in their doors and windows.

"Guards. Arrest him."

The two guards closest to Guy looked at each other, then strode over to the frozen man. Mad as some may see him, one thing was certain- he would never go down without a fight. As soon as the two guards stepped within a foot of Guy, they fell prey to his sword. Taking advantage of their shocked state, Guy charged, letting a war cry escape his lips. The nearest guard lost his sword as he helplessly tried to block Guy's attacks, leading him to his death. Now they changed their tactics. The remaining nine formed a loose circle around the wild beast, blocking his escape. He tossed off his cloak, revealing the belt of knives around his waist. Guy drew a knife and cast at the guard. They started to advance on him, taking cautious steps. None of them was likely to beat him in single combat, but their strength lay in numbers. They knew that, and so did Guy. He stabbed at the one in front of him, trying to fight his way out of the circle he wandered into. The guard blocked sloppily, but was too slow to evade the second attack. The knight was about to turn around to fend off the guards behind him, but all he saw was a fist flying towards his too fast to block. As a result, the punch left Guy's head throbbing. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the sheriff smirk. Vaisey didn't believe he would try and kill him, or succeed for that matter. Rage filled Guy as he caught his second wind. Was the sheriff not scared that his death would be upon him? Did he realise his mistake in coming here in person? Gisborne stabbed the man who hit him, then finished another off with his mortal knife. The sheriff was so close, so close to having his miserable life ended, it drove him with an incomprehensible blood lust. Guy diving at the next man, bringing to his knees with a kick, then beheading him, sending blood spraying over Guy. The remaining guards looked at each other with panic-stricken faces, then fled the battle-field as though the devil was chasing them. Now it was just him and sheriff.

Guy stood there for moment, partly to catch his breath but mostly to enjoy the fact that he cornered Vaisey. Their eyes met, locked in battle. '_Today, I am going to kill you. Today, I'm going to watch the life drain from your eyes.'_ Guy tried to tell the sheriff with his merely the look on his face. '_Don't be a fool, Gisborne,'_ the sheriff responded, _'I cared for you like a son, I gave you land, I made you a knight.'_ The sheriff nudged his horse to sent it down the road it came, but it was in vain. Guy lunged at the horse, cutting its hind leg. The horse reared up in pain, tossing Vaisey off its back. He scrambled up, wondering how he got himself into this mess. Guy was perusing the sheriff, almost upon him. Vaisey reached for his sword, next to his saddle. His hand engulfed the hilt, but it was too late. Guy raised his sword above his head, but instead of bringing it down on the sheriff's skull, Guy chopped his hand clean off, sending another spray of blood. Vaisey's scream was blissful music to Guy's ears.

"GISBORNE!" There was only voice that belonged to. Robin Hood was flying towards Guy, smashing in to him, both of them crashing to the ground. Guy's sword slipped though his fingers, clattering to the ground. Robin, pinned him to the ground, knife to the throat. His gang followed, Tuck checking the sheriff, who was curled up on the ground clutching the bleeding stump of a hand. "Will he live?" Robin asked Tuck. "He's lost a lot of blood, but he'll live." Tuck confirmed. Robin turned his focus to Guy. "You!" He snarled, "what are you thinking?!"

"Robin, we got three villages to get to before sunset, we're running late as it is." The warrior monk reminded. "You-I'll-deal-with-later." Robin growled through gritted teeth. "John," he called, "tie him up to a tree." Robin knew he loved to drop the food off, but he needed someone strong. John looked at Guy, his brown eyes regarding him with sheer disgust. "Him, I do not like." Little John grunted. "None of us do." Robin muttered. As soon as his weight was off Guy, his hand shot to his only means of protection, his sword. John stepped on his wrist, crushing it, before he could be reunited with the blade. Guy tried to get up, drawing one of his fatal knives, but John punched him in the head, where the soldier struck him early. It was enough to send the murderer into the darkness.


	7. Saints and Sinners

**Chapter 7; Saints and Sinners**

"Wake up." Grunted a voice. Little John loomed over him, nudging Guy with his foot. His eyes opened to check his surroundings. Dense green trees hosting a thousand leaves was the first thing that greeted him. He moaned inwardly. Guy was stuck in some godforsaken part of the forest bound to a tree. He tilted his head to get a better look at what was in front of him. There was a small fire, with a hare roasting over it. The rest of the gang was there; Much sitting by the fire, Tuck nesting in the arms of an oak tree, Robin leaning on his bow. Allan seemed to have disappeared. An uncomfortable silence followed. Nobody didn't really know what to say to each other. They looked at him with eyes warped with uncertainty and confusion but never losing the old hatred. His actions had left their minds tangled and the fact that his fate lied in their hands was... unsettling, to say the least. But of course getting captured by Robin Hood wasn't part of Guy's plan either. Robin walked over, with his usual smugness about him, and torn the gag off Guy.

"You have a lot of explaining to do." Robin remained, breaking the silence. It was hard to tell if he was angry or not. "And what if don't? What you going to do? Torture me like you did before?" Guy mocked, his voice sounding venomous to his own ears. "No, I won't. However, the Sheriff would probably put a lot of pounds on your head. That money could feed the poor of Nottingham." What little colour was left on Guy's face immediately drained. To kill him was bad enough but to give him to the sheriff was another matter. He could only begin to imagine what horrors Vaisey would inflict upon him. "That's better. Now, first things first, why did you try to kill the sheriff?" Robin asked, trying not to lose his temper.

"I wanted a pay raise but he said no." Guy hissed sarcastically. **Smack! **Robins patience died. "PRINCE JOHN WOULD HAVE BURNT THIS PLACE TO THE GROUND!" Robin roared, shaking Guy by the shoulders. "You know that better than anyone!" Robin continued to yell. "Robin, calm down." Little John muttered, pulling him away from Gisborne. "He deserves to die." Much commented. "People will be killed, left homeless!" Robin continued to rant. "Well, you're the hero, that's your problems." Guy snapped back. Everyone gasped in shock."I have never in all my life heard anything so selfish." Much sneered. "Not only did you try to kill the sheriff but you publicly tortured him." Tuck added. "Are you surprised?" Guy mocked. Tuck sighed, Robin however was vivid with rage. "I swear Gisborne, you will pay for what you've done." Robin spat, the stormed off into the forest.

* * *

"Robin, wait." Tuck called after him._ 'What now?'_ Robin thought but nevertheless, he waited for Tuck to catch up. How he hated Gisborne. He took his wife, almost King Richard and countless other lives. The very air around him was polluting Robin's mind, turning into a monster he had been in the Holy Land. Robin vowed to himself he would never become like that. He vowed he would save lives instead of taking them. It was difficult than said when Guy and the sheriff stood against everything he believed in. Robin needed a break to gather his thoughts, especially after today's events.

"Robin-"

"Can't you see I want to be alone, Tuck?" Robin snapped. He instantly regretted it. The monk was only trying help. "Calm yourself Robin." Tuck commanded. Robin sighed, then took a deep breath through his nose, then out slowly through his mouth. It helped... a little. "That's better, now I need to talk to you." Tuck started. Robin twitched with his head, then walked over to a fallen log, and sat down. Tuck was unsure how to start, but his educated mind soon thought of something. "What will you do to Gisborne?" Tuck threw out. "I dunno... Much is right, he deserves to die, or at least be handed into the sheriff."

"Yes, but what do you think, Robin?"

"Like I said, I don't know. My mind is divided- one half wants to kill him but something has changed inside him to make him want to kill Vaisey."

"Exactly. There was a gleam in his eye, something has changed, inside of him." Tuck exclaimed. "You mean he's finally developed a conscience?" Robin said sarcastically. "Well, I wouldn't go that far but at least some minor form of a conscience, yes."

"But what about Prince John? Nothing has changed, he's still as selfish as he was and we don't even know if someone payed him to the kill the sheriff. For the right amount, I think there is a fair chance it could have happened."

"If he was payed for it, he wouldn't have chopped off his hand, he isn't the type to mess around when he's killing people. And as for his selfishness, there were times that you tried to kill the sheriff."

"That was different, Tuck. The Black Knights were all in the same room and I had the King's interests in mind."

"Point remains you would have sacrificed people's lives and homes to rid the land of the sheriff and the likes of him."

"Yes but-"

"There you have it! You and Guy aren't so different after all. The world isn't divided into saints and sinners." Tuck advised. Robin on the other hand, was furious. "I had the intentions of ridding England of all it's evil in tyranny! Besides, I didn't even know if Prince John would really tear this place to the ground, it could have been a bluff."

"Look Robin, I'm not having a debate to see who's the better man here, but the point remains that Guy of Gisborne tried to kill the sheriff. It matters not whether it was for personal gain, but something has happened between the pair and whatever that something was, it made them turn against each other, or at least Guy in this case."

"Yes, so what you getting at?" Robin inquired, taking a sip from his waterskin.

"Well, if his loyalties have changed, then maybe, just maybe, we might be able to sway him to our cause." Robin choked, sending him into a fit of coughing. "Are... you... mad?" Robin gasped, his face mingled with laughter. It was the best thing he had heard all day. "Robin, this isn't funny." Tuck snapped. "Yeah, because I can really imagine Guy swooping in the save the villagers from the sheriff."

"He doesn't have to fight along side-"

"You got more chance of the sheriff being nice-" Robin interrupted. "He knows more about Vaisey and the castle-"

"We got Allan for that." Robin ranted. "I promised his-"

"Robin!" The pair looked over their shoulders at the sound of a third voice entering the conversation. Allan was racing towards them, sweat dripping off his brow. He stopped, his back bent-doubled as he tried to catch his fleeing breath. "There's... army... North road." Was all a tired Allan managed to gasp. "Prince Johns?" Tuck asked. Allan straightened his back, his chest raising heavily, then said, "I didn't recognise... the insignia."

"How many?" Tuck inquired. "Dunno... more than a hundred, less that a thousand, I didn't stop to count them all. They're on the move." Allan added.

"Let's get a closer look." Robin instructed, racing back to where they tied Guy up.

* * *

Guy's ears were bleeding at the sound of Much's constant babble. To think the Hood had given up all his land to be stuck with him, was something he could never understand. Even with a mouthful of hare didn't cease to stop his chatter. Food. The thought of the roast hare made his mind stray to where his next meal was going to come from. Guy wished he hadn't skipped breakfast, but he cursed his body for betraying him. There was no way he was going to accept food from outlaws, even if he was one himself. Guy didn't want to think of himself like that. A lair, a traitor and a murderer he could live with, but not an outlaw.

The knight sighed to himself. Locksley was taken away from him, his dreams and ambitions shattered. The only thing he had left was revenge, revenge that lied in freedom. But that too had been taken away from him. _'Not for long, though.'_ Guy thought to himself. On the outside, he looked fed up, but inside he had an invisible smirk on. After the day he escaped Prince Johns men, he made sure that he always had a trick up his sleeve- or a knife.

Robin, Tuck and Allan came dashing to the small camp they'd made, fallen leaves crunching under their boots and tree roots threatening to trip them up. Guy spared a glance at Allan. A purple bruise dominated the left side of Allan's face where he had elbowed him. Allan didn't respond too friendly, but Guy had excepted no less. He was used to being despised by people. "There's an army approaching on the North Road." Robin stated. "Carrying gold?" Little John asked Robin. Robin turned to Allan. "Probably. I didn't hang 'round for long." Allan answered. "What about him? We can't leave him, can we?" Much muttered. "It's not as if I'm going anywhere." Guy grumbled without invitation. "True." Tuck said. "We need to move fast, if we're to catch this army." Allan insisted. "But I haven't finished my hare." Much complained. "You can come back to it later." Robin reassured. "But It'll be cold." Much continued to whine. "Well you can catch another one."

"But-"

"Much!" Robin yelled. Much sighed, then put his hare down sadly before following Hood into some part of the woods that was foreign to Guy. The rest disappeared after him. They remained him of a pack of wolves, obeying Hoods every command. As soon as their footsteps faded well into the distance, Guy began to work on the ropes. He slid his middle finger up his sleeve, then pulled the knife down into his hands. The ropes that bound him were soon cut with ease as though they were made of butter. He smirked at Hood's foolishness._ 'Did he really think that I'd sit and wait for him to return.'_ His eyes darted around for his sword. It lay motionless and uncared for in a bed of fallen leaves. He picked it up, the familiar weight of it by his side made him feel safer and more confident. He turned to walk away but a man blocked his path. "Now where'd you think your going, Gisborne?" The monk asked politely. "Get out of my way or I'll kill you." Guy threatened, pointing his sword at Tuck. "I can't do that, sorry."

"Then prepare to die." Guy raised his sword above his head. "You are better than this. Your father wouldn't have wanted that." Tucks words instantly struck a nerve, making him hesitate. "My father? Shut up, you know nothing about me!" Guy snapped, advancing on him. "I know more than you think. He was a great man." Tuck argued, backing away. "He pissed off to the Holy Land and left me and my mother to fend for ourselves-" Guy bit his tounge sharply. As soon as those words slipped out he regretted it. He had never talked to anyone about the past, for the same reason that it always brought along a new wave of guilt. However, a small part of him was curious. How did Tuck knew his own father better than he? Had they knew each other? Fought against or alongside each other? The other 99.9% of him however was filled with fresh rage. _'Hood had obviously been telling stories about his wonderful childhood.'_

"That isn't true, Guy. He loved you very much and his only regret was that he never came home to see you grow up." A vein popped on the side on Guy's head, his whole body was tense and shaking with rage. "Don't-mock-me." Was all he managed to growl. He charged at Tuck, determined to kill him but to his misfortune, Tuck blocked with his sceptre. "I am not mocking you. Just calm down." Tuck protested. Guy swung again and still failed to hit the retreating monk. He paused for a second. Voices could be heard echoing in distance. The gang was returning. _'How could I be so foolish. Of course he never knew my father, it was a lie to bind for time.'_ Guy cursed his own folly, then shoved Tuck aside and raced off into the woods.

"GISBORNE!" Robin yelled to the top of his voice at Guy's back. Guy glanced over his shoulder. Hood indeed was catching up with him, while the others lagged behind. He pushed his protesting legs to go even faster. Like it or not, Guy knew he couldn't running at this pace, but he couldn't allow to be captured by Hood. 'Think!' He screamed mentally to himself. He hadn't been to this part of the woods before and had no idea where his feet would lead him. There was the army, and an army would have horses. He was trapped between two Hell's, and it was hard to tell which hell was worst. He took a sharp left towards the road. The hill inclined upwards. Guy scrambled up as fast as he could, his nosed inches away from the ground. But when he got to the top, he was in for a shock. Sat at the head of the army on a white horse was a man with the most incredible likeness to him, except his face was decorated with numerous of battle-scars. It was his French uncle, Gareth of Gisborne.

* * *

_I hope this chapter isn't too bad and I haven't portrayed Robin falsely. Like I said, I prefer Guy but I have no intention of bashing any of the characters. Note; the bit about Tuck will be explained into future chapters All reviews are welcome and I appreciate them deeply. Thanks._


	8. Ghosts of the Past

_Picking up from where we left off. This Chapter is mostly dedicated to filling gaps that are missing and tieing up loose ends mentioned into the previous chapters, a calm before the storm is the best way to put it._

Amaranthe Athenais; Yeah there's definitely more to Guy's backstory here that I thought was missing in the actual series. In the episode, 'bad blood,' it vaguely touches on Guy's relationship with his father and how they both feel.

Robin Hood reader; Good question. I suppose it's because Guy is more handsome, more evil and more interesting than Robin. Don't get me wrong, I like Robin too and I think he's great, but I guess I will always pefer Guy.

Greenveilbride; I totally agree with you. Thanks

* * *

**Chapter 8; Ghosts of the Past**

Gareth of Gisborne sat there, on his horse, surrounded by soldiers. He was a living giant, well over six foot with a double-headed axe slung on his back. He was the spitting image of Guy, expect his hair was a lighter shade and his face covered with battle-scars. His body was burdened by a set of plated armour that screamed wealth and physical power. _'Why is he here? Hasn't he caused enough trouble?'_ Guy hissed to himself. The old hatred for the man who called himself his mother's brother never left him;

_It was a miserable voyage across the channel, the wind howled like a banshee that had be burnt, and the rain constantly beat the life out of Guy and his younger sister, Isabella. The pair had just left the busy port and were wandering down a deserted road. "Are we there yet?" Isabella complained. "Does it look like we're there?" Guy snapped, tired of her constant nagging. "Well I don't know, I can't see through this mist." She snapped back. Guy rolled his eyes. They had been walking for just over an hour, or what felt like an hour. He had picked a bad time to come to France, but there again, he didn't have much of a choice. It was Autumn, soon giving in to winter, bringing rain and snow alike. "Aww, why couldn't we stay in England?" Isabella whined, breaking the silence. "Did you buy a house there without telling me?" Guy said sarcastically. "No-"_

_"So there you are, that's why we can't stay in England. Now if you'll please be quiet."_

_"But what about Robin! He'll take care of us, won't he?" Guy froze in his tracks. He turned around to face Isabella, going down on one knee so his eyes were level with her blue ones. "Listen to me, Isabella," Guy commanded, gripping her shoulders, "Robin could've taken us in, he could of stood up to Longthorn at least. But did he? No-"_

_"But he just lost his dad."_

_"WE JUST LOST EVERYTHING! EVERYTHING WE HAD!" Guy yelled, his patience snapping. "The only reason why we're not starving to death is because I have to steal from others. Now I'm only going to say this once, we are going to find our uncle to see if he will take us in. If you don't like it, then tough." Isabella said nothing, her eyes welling up with water. "Please don't cry." Guy begged. "I miss mummy and daddy." She sniffled. "Me too." Guy sighed. "Come on, we must keep moving if we're to get there before night." He said softly. "But my feet hurt." She grumbled. He sighed again, then knelt down for her to hop on his back._

_The sun hadn't fully set when the pair arrived at their uncle's manor. It was a beautiful house, set on a hilltop overlooking a pleasant village. They used to come here in the summer, where the surrounding fields would be filled with wild flowers jewelled with butterflies. "Now, do you remember what I told you?" Guy asked. "Don't speak unless spoken to and keep my head down." Isabella mumbled. "Good. Keep telling yourself that and we'd be fine." Guy beamed. They walked up the steps, the guards eyed them carefully, muttering to each other in French. They approached the main door, made of thick dark wood. The whole design of manor was to intimidate people. A knight stood by the side of it, dressed in chain-mail with an axe by his side. "We're here to see the Lord of the Manor. I'm his nephew." The knight continued to tower over him, wordlessly. "Do you even speak English?!" Guy snapped impatiently. "I do. I'll get him. Wait here and learn some manners at the same time, if you want to keep that fast tounge of yours." He yelled with a heavy accent, before disappearing inside. After half an hour of waiting patiently at his door, the Lord of the Manor stepped out. "Well come on the, out with it." He demanded, his breath reeking of wine. "It's me, Guy and Isabella, you're niece and nephew. My lord." Guy added, remembering his manners just in time. "And? Where is your mother and father?" He inquiried. "Dead, my lord."_

_"How?"_

_"Our manor caught fire. It was burnt to the ground." Guy explained, sorrow in his voice. "So how on earth does this concern me?" He questioned. The pair were shocked by his lack of remorse, but it fail to affect Guy. "We would be eternally gratefully if we could stay the week here or at least get transport to my parent's land." It was really his mother's land originally, but became his father's land too after they married._

_"Your parent's land? I don't recall your parents owning any land apart from that miserable little village in England."_

_"Yes they did-"_

_"Ooohhh wait, I remember now. Yes that little estate you owned is well, how can I say- my estate." Guy's anger was reaching boiling point. "That land is rightfully mine. The law says-"_

_"To hell with the law! How old are you? Fourteen, fifteen and not a penny to your name? You're far too young to run an estate."_

_Guy glowered at him, his hand gripping the hilt of the sword so tightly he thought he might crush it. His uncle saw the look he received, then whistled loudly. "Philip! Please escort these people away from here." The knight they saw from early came round the corner. With a grin on his face, he took them by the ears, and practically dragged them away from the manor._

* * *

Heavy footfalls brought Guy back to reality. His uncle was here, for some reason oblivious to him, and he needed a horse. "Another relative of yours, Gisborne?" Tuck whispered in his ear. "Why are you asking me if you know so much about the past?" Guy hissed back. He elbowed Tuck in the ribs, catching him by surprised, then pushed him down the small embankment. 'Fool.' He thought. Guy run through the forest, keeping one eye on the path, and the other on the army. He was grateful that they hadn't detected him already. He slowed his pace. He'd reached the end of the army. On man brought up the rear, holding a banner in his hand. 'Perfect.' Guy thought. He whistled loudly, to get his attention. The soldier looked around at the trees, thinking it was a bird. Guy whistled again, successfully capturing his attention. He stood his horse and stared at the figure cloaked in the tree's shadow. Guy approached him cautiously, then extended his hand. The baffled soldier shoke his hand, frowning in confusion. The more fool he was. Guy yanked him down off his horse before he realised it then finished him with his sword. Without wasting time, Guy mounted the stallion and rode off into the distance.

It was night time when he snuck into Locksley manor. Gisborne knew that this was the first place Robin would look for him, but it was raining heavily outside and didn't fancy sleeping in the forest. But he knew he would have to leave at first light. Guy walked over to a cupboard, after dumping a hare he caught earlier on the table, pulled out a candle and lit it. He sat down, took out his knife then skinned the animal. It was difficult with nothing but a candle to guide him, but he soon had the hare roasting over the dim fire. "Where's Thornton when you need him?" He muttered to himself, not used to cooking food himself. The manor was empty. A thin layer of dust told him that. But it won't be long till someone ransacked his home for valuables. Fortunately he had buried his precious heirlooms in a chest near the manor. He doubted anyone would find it.

The thin stench of burning pulled the knight out of his thoughts. '_Burning? The hare!'_ He immediately pulled it out of the fire. Guy sighed. Half of the rabbit was as black as night. Cooking clearly wasn't one of his strong points. He tried to eat as much of the hare as he could that wasn't blacked, before retiring for the night.

"Gisborne, Gisborne. Wake up!" His eyes shot open, alarmed. No sooner he realised a cold metal blade licking his throat. His hand slide to the side, trying to find his sword. He could have sworn he placed it at the side of him. Guy's attention turned to his murderer. Tuck gazed at him, a sword in one hand and a candle in the other, sending shadows dancing across their faces. "You..." Guy muttered. He should've known better. "What do you want now?" He hissed. "First night as an outlaw and your still sitting on the lap of luxury." Tuck stated. "Look, if you've come to kill me, then spare me the constant babble."

"I haven't come to kill you nor on Hood's orders. There is important information I need to tell you." Tuck explained. "Let me guess... are you going to boast about how much you know about my father." Guy snarled. "Quiet the opposite. I met him in the Holy land," Tuck started without invitation, "I was staying in a monastery before travelling back to Rome. However, it was raided by thieves and bandits before being burnt to the ground. I was held as prisoner. But thankfully, it wasn't long before they came across your father and his battalion. The thieves were slaughtered, those who weren't shot down immediately fled for their lives. So anyway, his soldiers turned their attention to me. They were about to kill me on the spot but your father stepped in just in time and dismissed them. I was eternally grateful to him. He saved my life not once, but twice in the same night. He could've killed me, tortured me, forced me into slavery, even try to hold me for ransom. But he didn't. Instead, he just told me to go my own way. So, I travelled with him for some time. Helped rebuild villages that had been destroyed, cook for the army and whatnot. But he never asked me to fight, not once."

Tuck lowered his sword, his eyes infested with the ghosts of the past. "We talked of many things in the time we travelled, he often sought council from me. Your father even invited me to go to England. He often spoke of you."

"Of me?" Guy repeated, trying not to fall asleep. "Aye, he said his biggest regret was going to the Holy Land. He wasted his time perusing land he didn't need when he should've been home teaching you how to fight and hunt and joust. He wanted to be a better father to you-"

"Shut up." Guy growled, his mood turning sour. "Pardon?" Tuck asked, not sure if he had heard correctly. "I said shut up." Guy reiterated. He realised he didn't want to know who his father was anymore. His father was dead, burnt to ashes by him. To think that he murderer a good man, and not someone who abandoned him made his burden even more unbearable.

"I haven't finished yet." Tuck protested. "I don't care." He replied, getting up. Tuck was on him in an instant, putting the icy blade to his throat. "If you move again then so help me God, I'll have to kill you." Guy didn't move. "That's better. There is a purpose I came here tonight, and not just to rant on about the past. Your father loved you very much and was a great man who did great things and saved many people." Guy wanted to tear his own ears off. "Anyway, it wasn't long till we were ordered to capture a Saracen fortress with a few other battalions. It was at that time that I spotted his... affliction. It was lucky I spotted it early. I told him he should've gone home but he didn't want to abandon his men. So, together we came up with a cunning plan, to create a distraction to flee the battlefield and return to England. I made what you call here a mustard bomb, but stronger. In the chaos of the battlefield the bomb would explode creating a distraction for him to flee. The plan worked to perfection, by the time anyone found out in the Holy land, it would be too late."

"Right, so if that's all you came here for, can I now get some sleep?" Guy nagged. "You know, your father was as impatient as you." Tuck said. Guy rolled over, then felt the sword on his neck again. "Like I said, there's a reason why I came here. Before the battle, your father was scared he wouldn't make the journey back to England. So in case he failed, he gave me this, to give to you;" Tuck picked up a sack and pulled out the most magnificent weapon Guy had ever seen. It was a crossbow; made of sturdy Saracen wood engraved with patterns that had then been painted gold. Metal ran through the core of it, also engraved. It was a beautiful weapon._ 'It must have cost a fortune.' _Guy thought, his jaw hitting the floor. "You see that barrel." Tuck pointed out. There was a small barrel, near the trigger with six holes in it. "You load the bolts in there and you can fire them faster. This bit here," Tuck demonstrated, sliding another peice of fine wood back, "let's you pull the bow back more easily. It was your father's favourite weapon and he was the last person to fire a bolt from it." Tuck handed Guy the weapon carefully. He stared at it with disbelief, and held it as though it was made of solid gold. Tuck got up to leave. Before he opened the door, he said, "use it wisely."

* * *

_Not such if the crossbow is 100% historically accurate, but hey it's Christmas time. I wish you all a lovely Christmas and a happy New year._


	9. The Murderer and the Madman

Margaret Thornton; Thanks for your kind words, I appreciate it.

Fiamma71; I'm glad you like it, thank you for all your reviews and support.

Greenveilbride; Thanks. Yes, it does take awhile Robin to 'grow up,' as you put it, more in the actual series. It is difficult to give Guy a redemption without Robin's father stepping in but still possible. Tuck does feel some degree of sympathy towards Guy but as far as a redemption is concerned, giving a straight answer would be a bit of a spoiler.

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**Chapter 9; The Murderer and the Madman**

The dawn light woke Guy up early from the little sleep he had gained. In fact, he wasn't sure if he had slept at all. Tuck took over half the night with his talking and the crossbow the other. Guy couldn't stop staring at the weapon and running his fingers across the smooth dark wood. The Saracens were truly master craftsmen. He wondered how his father came by such a weapon. It was beyond price. Reluctantly, the former knight tore his eyes away from the crossbow and got dressed. He spared himself his travelling clock and donned his usual, imitating leather.

'_Today was going to be a busy day.'_ He thought. Soon his uncle would come knocking at Guy's door asking for refuge. Guy was looking forward to the moment where he would act as the Lord of Locksley as he once was, and reject him just like he had done when Guy was young. And of course it would be a brilliant opportunity to try out his new crossbow if things got nasty, which they were bound to. It was indeed going to be a busy day, but a good one at least.

Gisborne gazed out the window. Along the path a trail of dust slithered into the sky like a snake winding up a tree. The sun had risen over the tree-covered hills, flecking the sky with a combination of pinks and reds. _'Red sky at morning, shepherds warning.'_ Guy recalled his mother saying that to him on a number of occasions. He usual thought it meant rain, but today there was something different. He was an outlaw. Guy had to keep reminding himself that he couldn't simply waltz into anywhere he pleased. And of course there was both Hood and the sheriff to be cautious about.

_'It couldn't be long now.'_ Guy thought to himself with growing impatience. He wasn't a sadist, but this time he couldn't wait to get revenge. The dust storm was getting closer. He loaded six bolts carefully into the crossbow, then twisted it till it gave a healthy click. He slung it over his back, ready to be whipped out into action at a moment's notice. The thundering of a thousand horses hooves rapidly grew louder then stopped.

"I am here to see the Lord of this village." Gareth cried, dismounting from his horse, his plated armour clinking loudly. Guy hurried outside. "You are staring at him." He answered, striding into the open. Gareth's face broke into a false smile. "Well if it isn't my favourite nephew." He bellowed, opening his arms to embrace him. The hatred in Guy's eyes was enough to stop his uncle in his tracks. "You have lost the right to call me that when you stole my land." Guy growled. His uncle, however, was unaffected by the waves of anger bouncing off Guy. "Oh come now, why be so cold, nephew? There was a famine and I was looking after it till the famine was gone. Are we not family? We have to look after each other, since the tragic death of your mother and father, God bless their souls." Gareth made the sign of the cross. "Don't play games with me, Gareth. Why did you come here?!" He snarled. It was strange to think that the man standing in front of Guy was his only living relative, yet distributing at the same time.

"For the same reason you came to me many years ago. I have an army to feed and house, horses that need tending to. I lost the land in France. Stolen from me by some rich lord. You know how it feels to have something taken that belonged to you. To be know that someone higher is in control of your fate, and then suddenly all the power on earth is rendered useless. Won't you let an old man stay for a couple of nights? For your mother sake?"

Guy stared at him with skepticism, his hand gripping the sword-hilt firmly. Was he completely out of his mind? Did he think that Guy would take him in after all he had done? Did he think that playing on a conscience that Guy didn't have would even work?

"You must think I'm a fool. I am not the same man who came begging to you years ago. I've tortured people, murdered in cold blood and gone as far to try and kill King Richard. Ask any of these people and they will tell you that. Now, I suggest you stop begging and take yourself and your army of rats out of here or I will chase you down and kill you myself."

Gareth said nothing. He merely stood there, with a smirk across his face. "You see here, dear nephew. I wasn't begging, I was giving you a warning. My army of rats outnumbers your army of, well, nothing. Now I'm only going to do this once, just for your mother's sake- I'm going to let you live. My men here however, will teach you a lesson, it's up to you whether you listen to it. Oh dear nephew don't look at me like that. Maybe some day we can get to know each other better." He babbled, then turned to his guards and shouted in French. The six of them drew their swords wordlessly. Gareth walked away, a smug look on his face. Finally the chance had come, yet Guy did not enjoy the moment as he thought he would. Gareth's words had left him annoyed. Guy drew his crossbow, hesitating at first. His father was the last man to use it. He could almost picture him, in the blazing Sun, with the hot white sand, shooting down wave after wave of human flesh. Then Guy took aim and pulled the trigger. One of the men fell dead, hitting the ground with a dull thud. The others were getting closer to him, too close for comfort. He slid the wood back then forward, giving a click to let Guy know that another deadly bolt was in place. One by one, he shot them down, leaving the witnesses in awe at the efficiency and beauty of the weapon. Guy's eyes quickly did a sweep of the battle field. Five corpses littered the ground. _'Five? That can't be right?'_ Guy thought. He turned around. One of the soldiers had climbed on the roof. He jumped, ready to kill Guy but he managed to sidestep the flying soldier and shot him, the bolt coming lodged in his neck. Guy reloaded his crossbow then looked around for his mad uncle, who was about to mount his horse. "Gareth!" He shouted. Gareth stopped, and turned to face Guy, a mad smile on his face. "Come and fight me, you coward." Guy continued to yell. The same mad recklessness that kept getting him into trouble returned to him with a vengeance. Adrenaline rushed all over his body. Gareth would pay for what he did to him. "What do you call me?" He whispered, but it still managed to echo throughout Locksley. "You're a coward. You think you can imitate me so easily? Let's end this here." Guy continued to challenge.

"My axe." Gareth commanded, clearing his throat. One of his men scuttled up to him, handing him the large battle-axe. "Guy, you are a fool. I will tear the beating heart out of your body." Gareth threatened, walking calmly into striking distance. "Save your words for when I send you into hell." Guy snapped back. He swung his sword, determined to kill his uncle. Gareth blocked with his axe, the sound of metal striking metal was sent echoing throughout Nottingham. Furious, Guy continued his flurry of attacks and each time they were blocked effortlessly Gareth, wielding the axe as though it was as light as a feather. Guy paused for a second, to catch his breath. Gareth put on his helmet, then dropped the visor down with a gauntleted hand. Now it was Gareth's turn to attack. He lifted the axe above his head, ready to split Guy in two. Guy saw the attack coming and blocked it. He knew his uncle was strong but he had no idea how strong until now. Guy barely managed to keep hold of his sword and the force of the attack threw him off balance. Gareth swung his axe again, trying to behead his opponent. Guy ducked just in time. Guy stabbed again, but Gareth stepped to the side, the tip of the blade missing him by a hairs breathd. Sweat was pouring off both their brows like a flooded river in winter. Guy retreated slightly, shaking his brains by the ankle to try and find a way to defeat him. Truth be told, Guy had never encountered anyone who fought like his uncle. In fact, he had never encountered anyone who welded an axe with such efficiency and power. Gareth charged forward for one final assault. Guy held his sword horizontally, gripping the top of the blade to reinforce it against the onslaught. The moment the axe met the resisting object, Guy felt his blade crack in two. His heart sank to his boots at the sight of his sword laying shattered on the ground with his hopes all means of winning the duel. Gareth lifted up his visor to fully take in the look of defeat and hopelessness he received from Guy. And defeat was an unknown word to Guy's dictionary. Only Hood had managed to successfully hold his own ground against him, and half the time that was due to luck. "I have-"

"Gisborne!" Another voice interrupted Gareth's voice. Guy spun around. His heart jumped out of his mouth at the sight of the sheriff riding his horse as fast as he could. Where the stump of the severed hand should have been was replaced by a crude spiked ball. Behind him was probably the whole of the castle garrison. Fear choked him. Guy hadn't been so terrified in his life. He had to get out of here, before the situation got even more critical. Guy scooped up the remains of his broken sword and looked around helplessly for an escape. His horse waited safely in his stables, carrying his freedom and possibly his life. It was only a matter of getting from here to there unscathed. Without hesitation, Guy sprinted to the stables, grabbed the horse's reins and tugged it into the open. "Come on, you stupid horse." Guy hissed. The horse stopped resisting him and allowed Guy to be carried from the danger.

* * *

Vaisey pushed his horse even faster at the sight of Gisborne fleeing. His mind went through the ways he would torture him, make him suffer for what he did. Burnt at the stake, ripped apart, flogged, pluck his eyes out. None of those seemed to satisfy him. Vaisey swore to God he wouldn't let him escape, even if he had to chase Gisborne down himself.

The sheriff was so caught up in his fantasies, he barley spotted a man, and the large army behind him. '_Oh great.'_ Vaisey thought to himself. An army had no doubt slipped through his borders, and were probably leeching off his resources already. If he hadn't been to busy interrogating the land for a blacksmith to make a hand, then the army wouldn't have slipped through so easily. And now he had to deal with this instead of hunting Gisborne. "Can this day get any worse?" He moaned to himself, then turned to his guards. "You! Take ten men and hunt Gisborne down. I want his head!" The sheriff demanded like a spoilt child. Whoever this man was, he was going to pay dearly. Vaisey pulled his horse to a stop. "Ah, so you must be the sheriff of Nottingham." He announced, full of confidence. Vaisey stared at him. He looked so much like his former master-at-arms, yet the plated armour and slight French accent gave him away. "Yes. And who are you?" The sheriff growled stiffly. "I am Lord Gareth of France. I heard you had an outlaw problem."

"Yes, you heard correctly." The sheriff continued to growl, wondering what on earth this man wanted, and why he had an army at his back. "And that Prince John would have your head if Hood isn't finished." Gareth continued to inquire. Vaisey was surprised how he had gained the second piece of information, but steeled his face from showing any signs of weakness. He had kept that as quiet as he could, but it seemed it had leaked it somehow. "Let's say for arguments sake it is true."

"Well, I may be a foreigner in this land, but I've grown quite fond of this village and a couple others in the area, plus I have this army that needs feeding. So, I am willing to bargain. Locksley, Nettlestone and Clun for the outlaws head." Vaisey thought for a moment. Who did he think he was? Coming to Nottingham and demanding land? If it weren't for that army which outnumbered his own, he would've told him to piss off. Yet desperate times called for desperate measures and he was willing to take a chance. However something about the man put him on edge, something about him that just wasn't right. '_He has no idea who he's messing with.'_ Vaisey thought to himself. Yet by the way he dressed and acted, he knew what type of man he was- one that will follow his command so long as he got what he wanted, and wouldn't prove difficult to kill off. Besides, he needed someone like him to do the dirty work.

"How about you have Locksley, and if you successfully catch Hood and Guy of Gisborne, then you can have Nettlestone and Clun. Oh, and a few other things." The sheriff hinted. Gareth smiled to himself. "Let me down, however, and it will be your head on the chopping block as well as mine."

"I wouldn't be here if I was going to fail you." Gareth reassured. The sheriff handed him the key to Locksley manor, then turned to the peasants who were watching. "People of Locksley," the sheriff bellowed, "I give you your new ruler, Lord Gareth of Locksley."

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_This chapter took me a little longer than planned, as I kept changing bits of it. I hope it isn't too bad, and hope you enjoy._


	10. Trouble in Locksley

Amaranthe Athenais; I respect your opinion and thank you for your feedback. I will confess I am no Robin Hood expert. Yes, it will be unlikely that Guy will join forces with Robin. I'll take into account what you have said. Thanks.

Lady Marian of Knighton; indeed :) The chapter is a little longer than I intended but I hope you enjoy.

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**Chapter 10; Trouble in Locksley**

Guy woke early to the sound of raindrops tapping lightly on the thatched roof of a tavern. After shaking the guards off his tail, Guy opted to spend the night in a tavern, but hadn't had a very successful sleep. The smell of ale, the constant noise, the occasional brawls, the endless stream of drunk people all made sleep in the room above impossible. Yet it seemed better than spending the night at the mercy of the forest. Guy was still questioning that belief. He headed downstairs, wanting nothing to be free of this place. But before he did anything, Guy needed to quench his thirst. "Mug of ale." He commanded, shrinking into some godforsaken corner of the room. His drink came without delay, white froth spilling over the edge of his tankard. His eyes darted around the room; few people could be seen, either with their head on the table in a drunken sleep, or shady folk like himself with hoods pulled over their faces. The only reason he picked this tavern was because the name; '_Hangman's Noose.'_ Nobody would search for an outlaw here.

Guy took a sip of his ale and almost spat it out. "How could anyone drink this filth?" Guy muttered. Not a month ago he was feasting on the finest venison, while washing it down with wine imported from Burgundy. A life as an outlaw was a life without luxuries, something Guy hadn't really taken into account before his bold actions. A man stumbled up to him, almost falling onto the table Guy sat at. "Watch it." He snarled, pushing the drunk away from him with one hand, while the other gripped the remains of his sword. Guy hadn't realised it at first, but that sword had both taken and defended his life simultaneously. It was as almost as if it became a part of him. Guy shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind. It was stupid to get sentimental over a blade, but since he became an outlaw (or had gotten used to it), he valued things more than before; his horse, his food, even the warmth of a log roasting on a fire. It made it even harder for him to understand how Hood gave this all up willing.

"Sorry, mind if I sit here?" A boy, had to be older than seventeen yet younger than twenty-two stood waiting for his response. "Hmm? Oh, yeah." Guy sighed, pulling him out of his thoughts. There was plenty of other seats in the tavern, why on earth out of all places did he had to chose this one? "Tis' cold morning." The boy stated, pulling up a chair. "Indeed." Guy replied. He was in no mood to talk, or even sit in someone's company. His recent defeat haunted him, along with his broken sword (and pride). Guy took a sip of his ale, trying as best he could to blend in with the crowd, though he deeply regretted it as he forced it down his throat.

"My father used to take me here when I was young. He liked to drink." The boy looked as if he was about to burst into tears. '_If only I have my titles restored...'_ Guy pondered, hoping the boy would clear off. "He was a tax collector." Guy frowned. He had been the tax collector for many years in Nottingham, yet he hadn't come across someone like him before. Guy would've definitely remembered his face. "He... was... mudered." The boy's voice broke as tears streamed down his cheeks.

"Look boy, I came here to drink, not listen to someone's sob-story, now shut up or clear off." Guy snapped, losing his patience. The boy sat quiet for a minute, wiping his tears away as quickly as they appeared. He downed his own ale in one gulp, slammed the mug on the table and lent closer to Guy. "His name was Rufus. You should know him, Guy of Gisborne, because you murdered him." It seemed that everyone in the tavern stopped talking at the exact time the boy spoke those words. The eyes of the world were upon them, gazing at them with shock, but the boy had better plans. He tore his knife from his sheath, intended to stab Guy. The outlaw shot up, and blocked the attack. Guy kneed him in the stomach, then punched the boy in the face. "Murderer!" He screamed, attempting to stab Guy again. In one swift movement, Guy had the boy's head to the table, his knife-hand forced behind his back. "You-murdered-my-father." The boy sobbed as Guy slowly stretched his arm to breaking point. "I've killed a lot of people, get over it." Guy snarled. The boy had completely blown his cover.

"Gisborne!" Shouted that well-known voice from the other corner of the room. Robin Hood, stood there with his bow ready to kill. Guy rolled his eyes. "It was about time you showed up, Hood." Guy growled. "I could say the same for you, Gisborne. How do you find being an outlaw?" Robin snapped back. "Not too bad. It never seemed to do you much harm anyway." Guy retaliated. "Let the boy go. He has nothing to do with this." Robin commanded. "My name is Edmund." Edmund hissed, trying to get up. Guy slammed his head into the table, breaking his nose. "Let Edmund go." Robin repeated, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Edmund's scream answered for Guy as he placed a wrist lock on him. Robin freed the arrow from his bow. Guy pulled Edmund up straight, using him as a human-shield. The arrow embedded itself in Edmund's chest. Guy tossed the corpse on the floor. "Taking a leaf out of my book, are you now, Hood?" Guy mocked, drawing his crossbow into action. Robin's gaze lingered on Edmund's body, then looked at Guy with new hatred. He pulled an arrow out of his quiver, but Guy's crossbow was faster. He fired it without second thought. Robin cried in pain. The shot had hit his arm, not his heart. Guy cursed to himself, but was drowned by another voice; "Outlaws! Outlaws in my tavern! Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne! Guards! GUARDS!" Robin, who was still on the floor, managed to drag himself under a table. Almost immediately guards poured in through the door, the first sight that greeted them was Guy standing there like a lemon. '_What have I gotten myself into?'_ He thought, then opened fire on the guards in front of him. More came through. Guy was about to put up a fight, but realised he was heavily outnumbered. Instead, he grabbed a chair and threw it at the window, littering the floor with glass. Without looking back, Guy dashed into the open morning.

* * *

Guy ran, and ran, and ran, and ran some more. He didn't care where his feet where taking him, so long as it was away from that accursed tavern and its troubles. Even when all noise had been pushed out by the hammering of his pulse, Guy continued to push himself beyond limits, until he was forced to stop in case his heart gave out. The outlaw scanned his surroundings. Oak trees; thick and mighty, the sentinels of the woods, their limbs twisted, armoured in bark, impaled by a thousand twigs hiding behind a mask of leaves, their fingers brushing the ground or swaying in the breeze lazily. It looked oddly familiar, then Guy realised he was in the woods not far from Locksley. The same Locksley where his uncle had crowned himself King of the Peasants.

To his right lay a small hill, cloaked in trees. Guy knew that hill well. He came up here many a time as a boy. It was a place one could view the happenings at Locksley yet impossible to spot, impossible to a foreigner's eye. Guy began his climb and within minutes he was looking over the village he once ruled. White tents surrounded the small cluster of houses that made up Locksley, with wagons dotted here and there. Despite it being early, everyone was swarming like an anthill under attack by another bug. Most of Gareth's men were tending to the horses, building makeshift stables and forges, while the peasants did whatever peasants did. He wondered where his uncle was. Guy would've liked to see what happened when he met the sheriff, he would've liked to seen what happened two equally insane and stubborn forces collided. Speaking of the devil, Gareth emerge from the safety of Locksley manor, then speak to some men. Guy's curiosity bubbled to the surface. He was dying to get a closer look, yet he stayed where his was.

A twig snapped behind him. Guy went to turn around, then he felt a the steel tip of a sword at his back. "Don't move." A voice grunted behind him. Guy prayed it was one of the sheriff's men. He knew he could easily outwit them. "Turn around, slowly." In one swift movement, Guy spun round, crossbow in hand. The dark set of mail unmistakable belonged to the sheriff's men. Guy pulled the trigger before he could inflict any damage on him, sending the corpse crashing down the hill. Shouts followed, along with the cry of horses. Guy sprinted down the other side of the hill. _'Great.'_ He thought. Guy had no idea where he was going to run to. He could do a loop, then double-back on himself and find a place to hide, yet his energy was almost depleted. Then Guy's mind thought of the most craziest thing he'd ever thought off. He could run to Locksley. It was the least expected place anyone would look for him, but probably the most dangerous. But if he was caught there was no way he could escape or even remain alive for that matter. Unfortunately, he wasn't left with much choice as Locksley soon came into sight. Guy slowed his pace to a fast walk, as not to draw too much attention. It worked... well sort of. No one was chasing him down or trying to kill him. Yet.A squad of soldiers were heading his way. Guy ducked behind a wagon, then retreated till he was behind a house. No one had noticed him, but he was far from relived. Guy's heart battered itself against his ribcage. Everyone to him was a potential threat. The longer he stayed, the more paranoid he got. His uncle came into view, making Guy's heart jump a mile. He stood at the centre of the village, flocked by his men, the plated armour replaced by a set of shining mail.

"People of Locksley." He announced. The villages stopped what they were doing, and paid attention closely. "Now, I know the last regime was a brutal one. I intend to be different. So, I thought we'd get the boring business of collecting taxes out of the way this month, as a token of my... kindness. Yes, that's a nice way to put it." Guy didn't like where this was going. "Now then, step forth with your contribution, there'll be no need for violence and we can all get through this nicely." The soldiers came round the houses, the peasants handed in their money reluctantly, until they came around one house. "Sir, they won't pay." The soldier shouted. '_There is always one.'_ Guy thought. Gareth walked up to the peasants home, his men trailing behind. "And why is it, that you refuse to pay the taxes?" Gareth demanded. "We've just had a baby." The man replied, fear in his voice. "So, the king is in the Holy land, with his men, risking their lives for the sake of the country. And when they return, if they return, they can't have a decent meal because someone has got another mouth to feed." Gareth leaped forward and grabbed the man by his shirt. "I know all about. My son was amongst the dead."

"I- I'm sorry, my lord." The man begged, shaking. The mother stood in the doorway, the baby in her arms. Then Gareth's mood changed. "Ohhhhh, so this is the little leech. Well, isn't it adorable. What's it's name?"

"Robin, my lord." The women answered, letting Gareth take it off her. "Aww, little baby Robin. How sweet..." Gareth cooed, cradling it, then his voice turned dark. "We were all like you once, depending on others for survival. But you're such a cute little thing..." Gareth turned to face his men. "Louis!" He cried. The man called Louis came trotting up to him. "Burn it."

_What?_

'Have I heard correctly?' Was probably the most frequent question everyone asked themselves. Burn it? Was he serious? It was just a child? Not many children survive after birth, but to murder such innocence was inhumane even by Guy's standards. "Burn it! For Godsake, Louis, I want to see something _burn_!"

Guy's mind screamed at his body to move, yet his legs remained bound to the ground. He was completely paralyzed with shock. He couldn't leave it but he couldn't interfere either. Then Guy did something he never dreamed of doing. He prayed that Robin Hood would fly in and stop this. Wasn't this the type of thing he did? Wasn't this his job, his duty, to stop such horrors happening? Or was that privilege exclusive to just Guy and the sheriff only?

_'He's going to be here any minute, he'll be here just in time._' Yet there was no sign Robin or his men. "Where is he?" Guy complained under his breath, finding the strength to move his jaw at least. Then he remembered. Robin of Locksley was lying in some tavern with a crossbow bolt sticking through his arm. Guy could've ripped out his own throat.

"We could b-burn something else, my lord. Couple of houses won't go down too bad." Louis mumbled. "Ugh, do I have to do everything myself?" Gareth moaned, snatching the child from Louis. "Build me a fire. Now!" The father of the child reached behind his back and pulled out a kitchen knife, hand shaking. "You can take my gold, kill my livestock, destroy everything I own, but you will not lay a finger on my child!" There was a gleam of delight in Gareth's eyes as he nodded to Louis. His right-hand man took out his sword and finished the father there and then. The mother of the child stood there, gobsmacked and hollow.

"Now, back to business. Let this serve as a brief reminder that I'm the boss here. Pay your taxes and we'll get along nicely." Gareth held up the child, his hand enclosed tightly around its head. The baby hiccuped quietly, its eyes jammed shut. "Refuse to pay, then may God have mercy on your soul." Guy shut his eyes tight, trying to imagine that he was in a different place. There was a dull thud mixed in with a crack. The battle of Guy's stomach began as he tried desperately stop his food from rising. He wasn't here. Guy's mind drifted to some far off place. He was riding through the forest, he was in Locksley having an evening meal, he was in the castle bossing people around. Anywhere but here.

"Hey, look who I found."

Guy went to grab his crossbow but two men came behind him and grabbed his arms. "Get off me!" Guy yelled, trying anything and everything just to break free of their grip. He almost had it, until another two men joined in and overpowered Guy. They dragged him out into the open, his feet barely touching the ground. Gareth's face lit up at the sight of Guy into a twisted smile like a child at Christmas. "Well, my dear nephew, you have truly made my day." Gareth exclaimed. Guy didn't bother to reply. "I expected my men to catch you later than this." Guy kept his silence. He couldn't be bothered to listen to the ramblings of a madman. "Don't you even what to know how you were caught so quickly?" Gareth asked. "Doubled the guard?" Guy sighed. "That and the fact I'd know you'd be hiding here. You see, I expected you to expect that this would be the least-expected place anyone would search for you, but that made it most-expected place at the same time, making it one big gamble. So here you are,-"

"Lord, give me strength to endure this pointless babbled." Guy prayed to himself. "How dare you-"

"Are you going to kill me or not? I'm in a bit of a hurry."

"No, I'm not going to kill you, not just yet." Guy was caught off guard at Gareth's statement, but then realized it could only mean one thing- torture.

"I'm hoping you will provide me with some good entertainment. This whole 'outlaw' thing, is really driving you insane. Running up and down the forest at day, and sleeping with both eyes open on the night. It's causing more pain than I could ever do." Gareth spoke the truth. Guy may have gotten used to covering his tracks, but he was never going to get used to sleeping under the stars, picking pockets every now and again, battling the elements, trying to catch food without being hunted down by the Sheriff, even simply living in the forest with only the trees for company. It was tiresome.

"But I'm not going to let you off easy this time. No, I will take something far more precious than your life." Guy was filled with dread. The only thing he valued more than his life was Marian, his crossbow and Locksley.

Locksley.

Guy's heart sunk to his boots. Not Locksley. He couldn't. He wouldn't. It was a bluff. It had to be. Yet the archers lined up and dipped their arrows in oil. "I want to see something burn." Gareth hummed to himself, rocking on his heels. "Archers! Take aim... and fire!" A dozen blazing arrows hit the thatched roof of the manor, orange flames devouring it in seconds. "Time to go to sleep, dear nephew." Gareth said, walking over to a paralyzed Guy. With a stout blow to the head with a gauntleted fist, Guy hit the deck immediately.

* * *

_This chapter was longer than I expected but hope you enjoy. P.s, not sure if the chapter title is fitting. If anyone thinks of a better one, feel free to say._


	11. The Hunt

Yay! Chapter 11 is finally here. I apologize for the long wait, I have been very busy these last few weeks, but it was worth the wait :)

Greenveilbride; I know some people want a happy ending for Guy but I am trying to keep this story as unbiased as possible. But everyone is entitled to an opinion, so thank you for your review.

* * *

**Chapter 11; The Hunt**

The throbbing pain in Guy's head woke him up. Wooden beams and the underneath of a thatched roof was the first sight that greeted him. Guy began to wonder if he was still in the tavern, and that yesterday had been one big nightmare. He touched the lump on his head. That was proof that yesterday's events were real. Guy sighed. Locksley reduced to ashes and a child was dead. It remained Guy of his own child, Seth. He promised to be a better father to it than his father was. Yet the castle was no place to keep a child, especially with Vaisey around. It would've been perfect leverage against him, that's why paying someone to send it to Kirklees was such a great idea. But Guy didn't know that the sheriff paid the same man double the money to ditch it in a forest. The sheriff told him later what had happened. He said that he couldn't have his master-at-arms running off to an Abbey every other day. Of course Guy was furious when the sheriff told him, yet he was powerless to do nothing.

And Locksley. His precious Locksley. Reduced to ashes. He felt pain in his chest. He was in the same state as he had began with. He made a mental note to kill his uncle if he had spare time. Guy sighed. He wished he had done something, anything to stop those two events from happening.

"Hey Will, what's this?" Guy heard a voice say, pulling him out of his thoughts. "I think it's a crossbow, Derry. Must be Gisbornes." Guy flinched. That crossbow was his father's, made in the Holy Land for him.

"Whoa. How many men do you think he killed with this?" Derry asked. "I bet he killed a hundred." Will replied. "I bet he killed a thousand."

"Hey, let's try it out." There was a sound of a bolt being fired, followed by a thud. "Wow, give it here Will, I want a turn."

"WILLIAM! DERRY! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING!" Shrieked a high pitched female voice.

"We were-" Derry began. "YOU COULD'VE KILLED ME!"

"Sorry ma."

"Sorry ma." Will and Derry both replied. There was the shuffle of feet next door, followed by a wheezing cough. "Oh look what you've done now. You've woken Grampa up!" She complained. "Not to worry yourself dear, I was already awake." An old voice croaked. "What'd they do this time?" Grandpa asked. "You wouldn't believe it! Playing with crossbows. They'll be chopping each others heads off next."

"Bah! Your being too overprotective again, Marge. A little mischief is good for the heart." Grandpa winked at the boys. "Speaking of crossbows, better check on our guest. Fetch me my stick, boys." Grandpa continued. Guy closed his eyes. He didn't want his host to think that he'd been eavesdropping. "Wakey, wakey, sleeply head!" Shouted a voice in his ear. Guy jumped up immediately. He stared at his host with a mixture of curiosity and anger. He was a skinny man, with tanned skin and a face that portrayed hard work and endless labour by a map of lines and wrinkles. Grey, grizzled hair sprouted from his head like a mane and although he looked like a breath of wind could blow him over, his eyes held a spark of life.

"I'm up." Guy grumbled. "Are you sure? Would you like me to check?" Grandpa teased. "Shut it, Wrinkles and tell me where I am." Guy demanded. "I'm sure there's a 'thank you for saving my life,' somewhere, eh?" He remarked. "Who are you?" Guy growled, continuing to glower at the old man. "David Lloyd Evans, at your service." He announced, with a wobbly bow.

"Right, now where am I and what am I doing here." The outlaw growled. "Why don't we discuss this at breakfast?" Grandpa asked. Breakfast was the last thing on Guy's mind, in fact, he forgot that he was starving until now. He could barely remember the last decent meal he had. Guy tossed him a look of defeat, then reluctantly got up from the bed, his head throbbing even more. "That's better." David said with a smile of satisfaction on his face. "Now chop chop otherwise there'll be none left for you."

Breakfast wasn't the most pleasant business. The five of them- Will, Derry, Grandpa, Marge and Guy were all cramped around a small scratched-covered table eating an even smaller bowl of porridge. However, it wasn't the thick, honey-covered porridge Guy was used to. This porridge was thin and running and tasted more like water than oats. But he continued to force it down his throat, slowly. Nobody spoke at the table. The tension was high in the room and it felt as though everyone was expecting an attack at any moment. Marge, the mother of the two children barely took her expression of loathing off him, while the others kept their eyes on their food. He adopted their tactic, not daring to risk the wrath of Marge. However, Guy was pulled out of his thoughts by someone poking his arm. One of the boys stared at him with murky brown eyes, his mouth hanging open. "Are you a giant?" He gasped. "No." Guy replied, taking his eyes off the boy and back to foul porridge. _Tap, tap, tap._ "What now?" Guy growled. "Is the sheriff a goblin?" The boy continued to gawk. "No." Guy answered, his mood unchanging. "But grandpa said-"

"Derry," his mother snapped, "eat your food before it goes cold." Guy didn't even know if the porridge had been warmed. He took a spoon full, trying to block out the taste. William and Derry quickly finished their food, then raced outside. Marge took their bowls and put them in an empty bucket. She took the bucket outside, closing the door behind her.

"You still haven't explained why I'm here, Wrinkles." Guy inquired, as soon as everyone was out of an earshot. The old man, finished his bowl and lent back in his chair. "Simple. I failed to take you in last time your home burnt down. I know it wasn't my place to stand up to the bailiff, but your mother always took care of us when we were hungry and your father never laid a finger on us either. We owned them both that much at least. But of I'd known what you'd become, what the sheriff turned you into-"

"Shut up. Just shut up. I don't want to hear another word." Guy hissed. He'd heard enough of the past in the week. "I think I'm the only person alive in Nottingham who was there at the night of the fire." The old man continued to rant on. "I was Gardner at the old manor. I thought my name might have rung a bell?"

"No."

"Come on you must remember me. You and Robin used to nick apples from my apple tree." Guy didn't reply. He remembered it well. The summer days where Robin would shoot apples down with his bow, and Guy would be ready to catch them. It was probably one of the few times that the pair got along in their youth. "Anyway, I offer my apologizes for last time, hopefully my debt will be repayed." The pair sat in silence. Guy had a lot to consider. Forgive the man who was too cowardly stand up against injustice? Forgive the man who left him as a boy with nothing but the clothes on his back? And yet the same fact burned in his mind. '_They saved Hood, yet they didn't give me or Isabella a second glance.'_ Of course he wasn't the perfect child one could ask for, often reckless and impatient and mischievous. But still, he was young, and just lost everything he had.

Guy looked up at the old man. His wrinkled eyes were infested with sadness and regret. He was going to die soon, the look on his face told everyone that. It would be a kindness to let him pass away with a good peace of mind.

"What you did to me and my sister... it was unforgivable. You repay your debt now but it is long overdue. I was a child and had lost both my parents. Now I've just lost a building that was never mine to begin with and got a roof over my head for a night." David could not meet his eye. "I see. I am ashamed of myself to this day of what I've failed to do. I will beg forgiveness from God and pray he have mercy on my soul."

_'Save your breath.'_ Guy mumbled inside his head. He stood up and headed out the back. The tension in the room was choking him. At times like this he would want nothing more than to ride through the glen to clear his mind. Yet those days were long gone, replaced by getting chased through the woods like a Fox, or hiding in bushes like a rabbit. So Guy stood there, arms folded leaning against the wooden wall of the house. It was such a beautiful day to waste, it was frustrating to sit and do nothing. The door swung open to the side of him. Marge appeared, carrying a basket full of damp clothes that needed drying. Guy was so lost in thought, he barely noticed her. _Whack!_ Guy's hands shot to where his weapons should have been. Marge stood in front of him, glaring at him with ferocious green eyes. "You soulless little devil!" She hissed, like a wild rattlesnake. "Get off me, you stupid women." Guy snarled, but failed to quench the fire in her eyes. "Now you listen to me, Guy of Gisborne and listen well. It was Grandpa who made us take you in. If it was left to me, I would have let you rot."

"I didn't expect any less from the likes of you." Guy snapped back, but his comment was ignored. "Now, that old man by there will be dead in a puff of smoke. Every time he saw you, he saw his mistake. Now, you are going to apologize to him, and forgive him-" Guy opened his more to protest -"I don't care if you don't mean it! Otherwise, I'm sure your loving uncle will enjoy your company more. Clear?"

She waited for Guy's response as he weighed up the pros and cons, but he didn't have much choice. "Fine." He grunted reluctantly. "Just remember, I'll be listening to every word your saying." Marge threatened, shoving him back into the dark house. Guy sighed to himself. He wasn't used to being threatened or pushed around, especially by a women. Being an outlaw was making him wild and almost uncontrollable._ 'Had Hood and his men ever felt like this?'_ Guy wondered. Thinking about it now, Hood's men never really had much to lose. It wasn't as if they had been living in a castle for the most part of their life. Guy forced one foot in front of the other. Grandpa stood at one of the few Windows in the household, sunlight beaming down on his pale face. He didn't notice Guy come in. He cleared his throat. Grandpa didn't so much turn his head. Guy assumed he was half-deaf. "David." Guy called. The old man turned to his head and stepped out from the light. "Yes Guy." The former knight opened his mouth, but no words came out. He couldn't remember the last time he made an actual, genuine apology. He began to panic. '_God damn it,_ w_hat should I say?'_ Guy yelled at his brain. He was conscience of time passing, and the man in front of waiting for an explanation. "I... um, after thinking about it, I er... accept your apology." Guy muttered the last words in one breath. He looked at the old man, who embraced him. Guy immediately tensed, his whole body going ridged yet he couldn't shake him off for fear of breaking a frail bone. "Thank you. Thank you so much. I knew you had your mother's blood in you." Guy was unsure how to respond to that comment. The back door swung open. Marge walked in with the cheesiest grin on her face. "Well I hope I'm not spoiling anything." She smirked. "Not at all m'dear." Grandpa said. "I best be getting tea ready. How many carrots do we have left?" She asked. "Two and a half." Grandpa replied. "Two and a half! We can't make a stew out of that." Marge exclaimed. 'Carrot stew? They can't be serious?' Guy thought. He couldn't survive another meal of watered down food. "If you like," Guy offered, "I could go and catch a few rabbits."

"But isn't that against the law?" Marge protested. "And so is harbouring an outlaw. I'll do so at my own risk. Now where's my crossbow?" Guy asked. The pair of them looked away. Marge walked to the front door and poked her head out. "Will! Derry!" She called. The two boys came running up to her. "Yes ma." They both said. "Where's Guy's crossbow?"

"Ummm... I think dad had it." Derry confessed. "Nope, it's on top of the self." Will corrected. And so it was. On the topmost shelf, his crossbow waited patiently for orders. Gently, he took it down and check how many bolts were there. Feeling mischievous, Guy said, "I'm sure there was six bolts in here."

"It was all Derry's fault, I swear to you. He took the crossbow and fired it." William confessed. "You lying... lying, jabawot! Yep, your a lying, two-face jabawot." Everyone raises eyebrows at the young boy. "It means that you tell fibs and you smell bad and you're a annoying as a flea." Derry explained. "DERRY! Don't call your brother names." Marge commanded. "Well, I think he talks a load of gobbledygook. You're just a big pile of incomtoad." Will shouted back. "WILLIAM! DERRY! IF YOU DON'T APOLOGIZE, I'LL GIVE YOU TO THE SHERIFF!" She screeched. The boys faces went pale. "Sorry Will."

"Sorry Der."

Guy allowed himself the rarest of smilies. They barely had nothing, yet he envied them. They endured the sheriff's and his uncle's tyranny yet they were happy. They work endlessly in a cycle of poverty, yet they found ways to smile. "I'll be going hunting then." Guy said, heading out the back door. "Be careful." Grandpa shouted behind him.

It was a perfect day; the sun was bursting through the green canopy, the birds sang in the trees and the wind seemed to welcome him down the familiar path. Yet for his own safety, he strayed from the path and headed into the heart of the forest. He repeatedly scanned his surroundings, looking for animal tracks and trying to memorize his way. It wasn't too long that fresh mud told him a herd of deer had past this way. Guy knelt down to study them in more detail. They were fresh, and deep. _'They must have been running.'_ Guy thought. There was no blood on the ground, or antlers._ 'So they must have escaped, or weren't attacked altogether.'_

A twig snapped.

Guy spun around. His finger twitched on the trigger of his crossbow. Two figures appeared from the trees.

"William? Derry? What are you doing here?"

They were covered in mud, their hair knotted with twigs and leaves with thin scratches on their bare forearms, evidence that brambles and stinging-nettles had clawed at them. "What are you doing here?" Guy repeated. "We- we wanted to go hunting... a-and we followed you, and then we got lost." William sobbed. Guy rolled his eyes. It was an amusing sight. Two filthy boys with their little toy bows and arrows slung over their shoulders. The two boys slumped down on the floor and cried even more, loud enough to draw attention. "Ugh, you can follow me, but just be quiet." Guy snapped. "Great! Can I hold your crossbow?" Derry asked, jumping up enthusiastically, his tears disappearing. "No-you-bloody-well-can't. I'll be reporting this to your mother." Guy threatened. Guy continued down the path, the two boys trotting after him. It wasn't long till the trees thinned and they reached a clearing. The herd of deer he had been stalking were waiting there, some lying on the ground, some grazing. He evaluated the herd. The leader of the herd lifted his head and stared straight at him with dark eyes. He was the leader for a reason. He was the biggest of them all, with the largest antlers, standing on the edge of the herd. His rival wasn't too far away, very similar in size too. Guy was trying to pick out the weakest of them. A simple deer didn't scare Guy, but could do damage to the boys. Then he spotted it. A young doe, with a sandy coloured hide eating some grass. Yet it stood, limping. It had broken his leg._ 'An easy target.'_ Guy thought. He whipped out his crossbow, took aim, and... the herd of deer were fleeing the clearing.

"What?" He gasped, unable to define what was happening. Black soldiers on horses appeared, heading towards them. "Run!" Guy screamed at Will and Derry, thrusting his crossbow into their hands. "Run, you fools." Guy roared again. The pair forced their aching legs to disappear into the forest. The soldiers caught up with him in a matter of seconds. They dismounted, Guy focused his gaze towards the darkening sky as he felt a thousand metal tips smooth his neck.

"Well Gizzy, isn't this a pleasant surprise?"


	12. Nottingham Dungeons

**Chapter 12; Nottingham Dungeons**

Derry and Will raced home as fast as their legs could carry them. They tore through the woods like a sword through cloth, not caring about the brambles clawing at their faces nor tree roots threatening to send them flying. '_Were the guards still chasing us?'_ Derry wondered. He pushed his aching legs to run even faster. Soon, Locksley was rapidly approaching them. They dashed past the guards and burst into their little house.

"Ma!" William cried hugging her, followed by Derry, letting the crossbow drop to the ground. "My dear boys, look at the state of you." Marge fretted. "I'm sorry ma." Derry sobbed. "Spit away your sadness boy, tell me what happened." Grandpa commanded. The two boys sat themselves on the floor. "We- we were following Gisborne... 'cause we wanted to go hunting." William began. "And then a dozen of sheriff's men turned up on horses."

"We fought like a hundred of them off but there was like a thousand of them. One tried to pick me but I threw him over my shoulder and finished him off with my sword." Derry chimed in. "But they surrounded us. Luckily, _I_ chopped through them all with _my_ awesome skills and then-"

"Gisborne gave me his crossbow and then we ran home." Derry finished. "Yeah right. And I'm the King of England." Grandpa smirked. "Fine, we didn't fight them off but he did give me his crossbow. See?" Derry admitted, picking up the crossbow and firing it. "DERRY! WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT THIS!" Marge screech. "You did the right thing boys." Grandpa chuckled. "There's no way you could've fought them off. It was lucky you escaped them unscathed."

"You shouldn't have been in the woods in the first place." Marge snapped. "But what are going to do?" Will asked. "What do you mean,_ 'what are we going to do?'_" Marge asked, puzzled but still annoyed. "Can't we get him out, and give his crossbow back to him?" Will explained. "Don't be stupid, you naive lad-"

"We can disguise ourselves as servants and go down in the dungeons and get him out." Derry cut in. Grandpa merely chuckled but their mother was furious. "You-do-not-have-an-opinion-in-this-matter!" Marge snarled through gritted teeth.

"But-"

"Get out!"

Knowing that they were defeated, the two boys dragged their feet outside, avoiding their mother's gaze. They continued to walk, until they were sure they were out of their mother's keen ears.

"What we gonna do, Will?" Derry asked, as they both sat down on a tree stump. "Dunno. Ma's right-" Derry shoved Will off the tree stump. "What was that for?!" He yelled. "Your sounding like ma. We can't sit and do nothing! Think! What would Grandpa do?" They both pondered on that thought for awhile. It was their Grandpa who encouraged them to take risks and go on adventures. He often told them tales of when he was younger and how he went hunting and escaped the guards.

"Let's ask Robin Hood."

* * *

Guy awoke to the smell of burnt flesh and the sound of screaming. Cold air stung inside his lungs and iron bit with rusted teeth down on his wrists. It took him a heartbeat to realise where he was;

Nottingham dungeons.

His body trembled with fear. Not the fear of being executed, but the fear of the slow, painful death he was going to receive. He took a deep breath in, and out. A slow painful death was what he deserved after all the atrocities he had done, especially Marian's death. But he had tried to redeem himself in (a strange way). Had he not tried his best to kill the sheriff? Had he not given it his all? _'If I killed him instead of wasting time, I would never have been here.'_ Guy thought. He took no comfort knowing that he played a part to his own downfall. He prayed his death would come quickly.

The outlaw looked around him. He wasn't the only one bound in chains and cloaked in darkness. The were several others sharing the same cell as him, their backs slumped against the icy cold walls, their heads hung in despair. How he hated this place, even when he was on the other side of these bars. He breathed in, the metallic smell of blood filled his nostrils. The stench made his eyes water as he felt his stomach churning.

"Praying won't do you much good in this Godless place, boy." A deep voice echoed in his ear. "I didn't ask for your opinion, assassin." The boy answered back lifting his head up to reveal a face streaked with dirt. "My name is Nazeem. Nazeem the Saracen, they call me." He stated without introduction. "Arthur." The boy replied, his green eyes gleaming through the darkness. "I would shake your hand but, as you can see, I am bound in these chains." Nazeem said. He stared at the boy with a peculiar look on his face. "Now what you staring at?" Arthur snapped. "I was just thinking, your a little to young to be a murderer. How old are you? Thirteen? Fourteen?"

"Fifteen, you nitwit! And I didn't murder anyone." Arthur snapped. Fifteen. That number struck a nerve. Guy had to be a similar age when he had killed someone;

_It was a cold autumn day when Guy had been walking back to his home. It was already getting dark, as the wind sent forth another wave of leaves to attack him. The manor was looming in sight. His short-cut through the woods had paid off well. Or so it seemed. A twig snapped behind him. Guy spun around. A man, six foot in height with a nose that had been broken too many times grinned evily. Guy went to dash forward but another man blocked his path, not as tall but equally as fearsome. "Well, look wha' we got 'ere." The tall outlaw boomed. "Reight lad. Give us yer gold 'n we can ger through 'dis smoothly." Guy's heart frozen. The colour drained from his face. What was he going to do? With a trembling hand, he reached to his waistband and tossed his money on the floor at the outlaws feet. Slowly, without taking his eyes off the young boy, the outlaw picked it up and checked at its contents. "Take 'im wi' us. He's worth mooar than dis if we 'old 'im ta ransom." The second outlaw growled. Guy's body went rigid. What was meant to be a second, lasted more than a second. What could he do? What should he do? Run along with the outlaws and play nice? _'That's cowardly.'_ Guy thought. He hated this feeling of helplessness. His mother told him to be strong, like his father fighting bravely in the Holy Land. And here he was, terrified over two petty thieves. So Guy, left with no choice, slid his hand to his hip, wrapped his shaking fingers around the hilt of his dagger and pointed it at the outlaw in front of him. The outlaw burst out laughing."Yer think yer av da' guts ta kill a fully fledged ou'law like meh?"_

_"Try me." Guy hissed, trying to sound strong but his voice betrayed him. "Christ. Yer mus' av' gotten dis killa instinct from ya father. No way your ya mother's son-" The outlaw was cut off was a cry escaped his lips. Guy's dagger found itself buried in the outlaws chest. And the blood! Why was there so much blood? It was on his sleeve, his shirt and some even flecked on his face. He let go of the dagger, letting the corpse slump to the floor. "What have I done?" He muttered with disbelief, tears flowing freely down his face, mixing in with the blood. Guy glanced behind him. The tall outlaw was already running away. "What have I done?" Gisborne whispered again as he sunk to his knees. He had killed someone. He had murdered someone. He had murdered a son, a husband, a brother, an uncle, a cousin, a father... he turned his head to the side and threw up violently. Giddy, the newly-born murderer tried to force his aching legs to move, then felt something warm trickle down his wrist. His shaking hand was red with blood._

* * *

"My father couldn't afford the taxes. I took his place instead." Arthur explained, waking Guy from his daydream. "You could've become a knight with a heart like yours." Nazeem chuckled. "Aye, show Gisborne one or two things about Chivalry." Another man churped in. It seemed as though the shadows in the dungeons had cloaked his face well enough to make it unrecognizable. "Chivalry doesn't exist. Never has never will." Guy answered, sending half a dozen pair of eyes staring at him. "Well, I never thought I'd see someone like you on the other side of these bars." Arthur spat. "The feeling is mutual." Guy grunted. Arthur paused, then said, "the sheriff's gonna torture you, you know."

"Before you open your mouth, think what you're going to say then don't say it." Guy growled. Arthur opened his mouth to respond then stopped. A door slammed open. Two sets of feet hitting the stone slabs echoed closer. "Well, it's good to see your making friends, Gisborne." Vaisey gloated, a triumphant grin on his face, his hand rubbing the spiked ball. Guy didn't reply, his eyes filled with malice. His organs felt like they had been replaced by a thousand worms, but his outward appearance was calm and ready. Little Arthur was right- he was going to be tortured. He was going to die. Guy accepted it all. There was nothing to do but wait for it. Wait and prepare, endure the pain until his body give in. "How brave are you feeling today, Gizzy? This brave-" the sheriff held up the spiked ball- "or this brave?" Vaisey drew an iron rod from a fire, the tip of it blazing white. Once again, Guy didn't respond, keeping his tounge at bay. "If your not going to answer me Gizzy, you won't be needing that tounge."

"What would you have me say, my lord sheriff?" Guy said at last. "There were are! That's the Gizzy we all know and love. But, well, you see. I've reached a problem: hanging or beheaded?" The sheriff burst into laughter at his own joke, leaving everyone else struggling to find the funny side of it. "Dear God, I'd have more fun with corpses." Vaisey chuckled once again. "I'd have more fun watching how annoyed you get when I nick your gold." A voice in the darkness added. "Pen-" A female voice tried to warn. "I can take care of myself, Gwyneth." The man called Pen answered. "Oh really, because your the reason why we're in this mess. You and your bloody clothes!" Gwyneth whispered harshly. The sheriff looked skyward, then his eyes lit up. "Ohhhh I remember you. You're that notorious clothes thief-"

"Hold on a minute, sheriff. I may just be a petty thief, but I do like to keep up with the latest fashion at the same time." Pen explained. "Of course you do, thief. Well in that case, you can join Gizzy in the your daily torture." One of the sheriff's men opened the iron door and stepped into the darkness. "Er- what?" Pen gasped as his chains dropped to the ground and was pulled up to his feet.

"You heard thief."

"What exclusive form of torture have you got for us?" Pen hissed sarcastically.

"You can go down to the torture chambers and have the skin flayed from your back. Whilst you Giz can go to the courtyard and be flogged, publicly, followed by an execution tomorrow afternoon. Oh this is going to be fun day." Guy's heart jumped in his chest. A public flogging was reserved for the most notorious of criminals. Barely anyone survived it. "Oh no. I can't do tomorrow sorry, busy. How about Friday? I think I can squeeze an execution in then."

"Very funny, thief. You better postpone any arrangements you have for another day."

"My name is Pen. Penderyn."

"Did I ask for your name? A clue; no." The sheriff snapped. "Lets get on with this. Oh don't look so sad Gizzy. You're providing me and the people of Nottingham with some good entertainment."

Guy felt sick to his stomach. He was barely aware of rough hands practically ripping his shirt from him then grabbing him and pulling him along the corridors, nor the echoing of screaming that danced around dungeons. In fact, his whole body was numb. And then Guy did something he hadn't done in years. He closed his eyes and prayed;_ 'Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me.' _His mother would recite those words to him and his sister when he was younger, though it would do no good now. He was no longer the naive and reckless child he once was.

Two doors swung open. Daylight stung at Guy's eyes. It was a horrible day, matching the sombre mood of Nottingham. And like the weather, Guy's luck wasn't improving; it seemed as though the whole of England had gathered here. The sheriff's musing voice was nothing but a faint whisper as hands that he didn't recognise as his own were raised above his head and bound in ropes. "How many lashes, my lord?" Guy heard someone grunt at the side of him. "Oh I don't know. Till I get bored." The sheriff instructed, clearing his throat. "People of Nottingham." Vaisey began. "As you can see. We have caught him. We caught the one who taxed you till your backs break, the one who murdered you loved ones, and has been found guilty of the highest treason- attempted to murder the beloved King Richard himself!"

The crowd gasped, but Guy's voice cut through them; "I'd say it was more of a team effort." Guy grinned at the horrified looks Vaisey received. "Now," the sheriff hissed over him, "I know you all want your retribution on this man, as well as I. Tomorrow! At midday. He will be beheaded for his crimes. Not even Hood has managed to achieve that feet. And as a gift from me, you can have his remains." The crowd turned into a roaring mob, leaving the guards struggling to keep control. The crack of the whip was enough to silence them all. Guy winced in pain as it torn through his skin like warm butter. The second blow came without hesitation, making him wince again as warm blood trickled down his spine. Three. Guy had to physically bite his tounge to stop himself from crying out. Four. He glanced around the crowd; they stood in silence, their eyes scanning him, waiting for him to cry out. Five. Vaisey too, watched patiencely, a sadistic grin on his face. Six._ 'God, this hurts.'_ He screamed to himself. The pain was unbearable. Seven. Every inch of his back felt as though it was on fire. Eight. He spared a glance up. Crows. Big, black crows sat on the castle walls, their beady eyes sizing him up. Nine. Guy gave up. He let his head fall, his vision going blurry. Ten. He closed his eyes and prayed for death to take him.

* * *

It was a happy day for the outlaws; they managed to ambush a carriage as well as visit three drop-off points. Living in the forest was a hard life, but it was worth the smilies they got off the people and knowing that they won't go hungry for one night. "What's for lunch, Much?" Robin asked, thinking about his own food for a change. "I don't know. You just gave all our food away." Much replied. "Well go and catch something then." Robin suggested.

"Why is it that I have to cook and catch the food?" Much complained. "Because that's your job." Allan muttered. "I AM NOT A SERVANT!" Much yelled. "Calm down. I never said you were." Allan said, rolling his eyes. Much stopped walking and folded his arms. "Fine then. You can have my infamous "chicken" soup and I'll have some venison."

"There's no way you could catch a deer by yourself." Allan stated. "I bet you a shilling I could-"

"Shut it!" Little John growled. "I still think-"

"MUCH!" Everyone shouted. Much sighed to himself. "Quiet." Robin whispered. "I didn't say-" Much protested. "Sshhh." Everyone hissed, glaring at him. Two pairs of feet crunching on the leaf-covered path. Immediately the gang took cover behind the trees and readied their weapons.

"Do you have any idea where we are going, Will?" A voice echoed through the woods.

"Nope. Just stick to the path and we'll be fine." The first answered. "But my feet hurt. This place is huge and we don't even know if Robin's here."

"Fine then, let's split up; you can go to Nottingham and I'll wander around here." The other boy didn't answer. Robin plucked an arrow from his quiver, set it to his bow and fired it. A gasp from the two boys and the sound of the arrow embedding itself in a tree told Robin he had achieved what they wanted. Like second nature to them, the outlaws jumped from their hiding places and raced to the path to greet their intruder. "This is an ambush." Much cried. "Eek! Please don't hurt us. We didn't do nothing-"

"William? Derry? What are you doing here?" Robin questioned, recognizing the two troublemakers from Locksley. "Wow. It's Robin Hood." Will exclaimed, forgetting their purpose. "And, and Allan a' Dale and Little John-

"And brother Tuck and... um... whats-its-face... the servant." Will marvled. The gang burst out laughing. "Much. My name is Much." Much grumbled. "Well what are you two troublemakers up to, wandering so far from Locksley?" Robin teased. Will and Derry recited the more accurate version of their story, not leaving out any details.

"And then went home and told my mum and she told us to go away." Derry finished.

Silence settled over the gang like a fog. Robin's mind was torn; his morals told him to do something, yet his pride and common sense said otherwise. Tuck had told Robin that Gisborne might had changed, now that he was free of the sheriff and was living like an outlaw. '_But it doesn't matter that the sheriff's gone. He has left marks that will never heal.'_ Another side of him argued. And of course there was Marian. '_Marian... How could he forget her?'_ A small part of him still wanted to die in the Holy Land, next to her. If he couldn't forget her, then how could he possibly forgive him?

_'He might escape on his own.'_ It was true that Gisborne knew the castle better than anyone else, and had escaped the outlaws once. But this was Nottingham dungeons. No one had escaped from there apart from Robin and his men, or without their help anyway.

"What we going to do, Robin?" Tuck asked. Robin paused, then said; "we cannot go to Nottingham. It's too dangerous to risk our life for one man who would probably murder us on our sleep, given the chance."

"But-" Derry began.

"You two boys were very brave and wise to come and seek me out. I'm glad you did. But think, if it were you in the dungeons, would he come to rescue you?"

"Probably not." Derry admitted his eyes focused on the ground. "Now, do you two know your way home?" Robin asked. "I think it was around that way, somewhere over there, I think." Robin chuckled. "Come on, let's get you home."

* * *

_Sorry for another long delay, I hope you can forgive me. I am determined to finish this fanfic, regardless how long it will take. Thanks._


	13. Rain

**Chapter 13; Rain**

The last thing Guy remembered was searing pain in his back and firm hands tossing him back into the cell he came from. Everything else had been one big blur. His mind was constantly fading in and out of consciousness. And the pain. The unbearable pain. Every second, every breath, every heartbeat sent a fresh wave of pain rolling across his body. It felt as though someone had pumped oil into his veins then set him on fire. _'Am I going to die here?'_ Guy wondered. It felt like he was going to slowly bleed away in this hell-hole. But for some reason, a part of him refused to die, refused to accept death. The sheriff was still alive. Guy needed to kill him. He didn't care how, he just needed that man to die._ 'But what will you do, after Vaisey is dead?'_ A part of him argued. After the sheriff's death Prince John's men would most likely come and tear the place down. So the wisest decision would be to run. And that would mean turning his back on the people of Nottingham, leaving them, as Hood said, homeless.

And what about William and Derry and Grandpa and Marge? They had sheltered him for a night, risking their own necks at the same time. And now he was going to abandon them? Grandpa wouldn't last a day in the forest, that was for sure. He needed a plan.

"For Godsake, stop moving." A voice Guy recognized as Nazeem growled. Guy couldn't help letting out a hiss as Nazeem placed a damp cloth on his back. "Let me whipe away the blood at least." Guy bit his tounge as Nazeem did his work. "How bad is it?" Guy dared ask. "I don't know. I can hardly see nothing in this blasted darkness." Guy sighed. "Did it hurt?" Arthur asked. "It did hurt and still does hurt." Guy growled. "Ugh. Someone must've got up on the wrong side of the floor." Arthur chuckled at his own joke. "Wrong side of the bed, but you slept on the floor. Get it?" Arthur explained, still giggling. "There is no end to your wit, now shut up or I'll smack that grin off your face." Guy threatened. "Oh come on. Pen had the skin ripped off his back and he's fine."

"Actually I didn't." Pen corrected. "You see, I merely pickpocketed the sheriff when he wasn't looking, then bribed the jailor with a quarter of the money, leaving me with... six shillings in total."

"Great. All you need to do is get past these iron bars, dodge the guards, hop over the wall and you're fine." Gwyneth hissed sarcastically. "Oh and bare in mind our execution is in a couple of hours."

"What?" Guy broke in. "You heard. The sheriff's gonna kill us all in roughly an hour." Gwyneth informed. "All of us?" Arthur asked. "Yep. The sheriff loves a good execution." Pen answered. "But I didn't do nothing." Arthur wailed. "Do you think the sheriff cares? A clue; no." Penderyn snapped. "But I- I can't die. I'm too young. I got stuff to do."

"Glad you took your father's place now, eh boy?"

"Pen, shut up. He's just a child." Gwyneth growled. "I am sick of being treated like a child. I'm fifteen." Arthur yelled. "And I'm Pen. Nice to meet you."

Guy wasn't paying any attention to the bickering. Slowly, and painful, the former knight stood up, his blue eyes scanning the ground. "Where is it?" He whispered to himself. "What are you looking for?" Nazeem asked. Guy didn't answer. His eyes did a dozen scans as he wandered around the cramped cell. "What are you looking for?" Nazeem repeated. "A knife. My knife." The outlaw answered reluctantly. "Oh this little thing." Nazeem stated, holding up the knife. Guy immediately lunged forward causing more pain, but failed to snatch it. "Easy. You could do a lot of damage with this little thing." Nazeem said, the attention focusing on the pair. "I swear, if you don't give that here I'll-"

"What? You'll kill me? Some gratitude I get for saving you. Do you even know why I'm in here?" Nazeem snapped. "I thought you were an assassin." Arthur answered shyly. "Keep out of this, boy." Pen warned.

"Let me guess, you tried to kill the sheriff." Guy hissed. "Aye. My client isn't happy with me as it is, so I need to get the job done."

"Well, I've got news for you. I am going to kill the sheriff and escape from this mess whether you like it or not." Gisborne snarled, taking the knife and sitting down. "And how d'you plan to do that? You'd never make it past the portcullis. Not on your own." Pen hinted. "What are you suggesting?" Nazeem asked. "Well, I'm just saying; if we use the knife to cut the ropes, pass it along or whatever, then we can all attack at once and escape."

"But what about the guards and the executioner. They have swords, we don't." Arthur asked. "Firstly," Guy explained, "I know the executioner. He throws up at the sight of blood and can barely lift an axe, yet alone swing it. And secondly, we also have the element of surprise. If we time it just right, we can use it grab the guard's weapons, or disarm them at least."

"So you'll go along with this plan?" Pen asked. Guy didn't replie. He weight up the pros and cons in his head. They were right; he'd never make it out alive without their help. He had nothing to lose here. Yet accepting help from outlaws was something his pride wouldn't allow. '_So, it's a matter of your tattered pride, over your life?'_ Part of him questioned. Guy went to give his answer, but another voice replaced his; "Glad to see you're all wide awake." Vaisey boomed with a menacing grin on his face. "So, did you all enjoy your final moments on this earth?" The sheriff continued to gloat. "Aww, what's the matter, little boy." Arthur's head shot up, tears plowing a clear path through the dirt on his face. "You can't kill me."

"Aw why can't I?" Vaisey continued to mock. "It's against the law." Arthur hissed. "I AM THE LAW!-"

"Unless you don't pay those thousand crowns by the end of this month." Guy added. "Another word, Gisborne, and I'll have your tounge cut out. Now then, chop chop."

Two guards marched in and with a click, his chains fell to the ground, but were replaced by ropes threatening to crush his bones. Guy and the others marched single file down the corridors. Slowly, the outlaw reached with his fingers and grabbed the knife, which cut through his ropes like fish thorough water. He glanced over his shoulder. "Arthur." Guy whispered. Little Arthur hung his head in despair, trying to hide the tears that stained his face. "Arthur." Guy whispered again. He raised his head, and Guy saw his face light up with hope as he saw the dagger. "Ready?" Guy asked. Arthur merely nodded. The moment he dropped the blade, Arthur stumbled to the floor. "Get up you miserable sod." The guard yelled, kicking him. "I'm getting, I'm getting up." The boy protested. They continued to march to their doom.

Guy spared another glance over his shoulder. _'If the boy hasn't got that knife...'_ The hopeful look from Arthur was enough to tell him that it was working. A door swung open. Light flooded into the dark castle, temporarily blinding them. Even though it was a cloudy day, the sun still somehow managed to penetrate through the wall of clouds. Apart from the guards, the courtyard was empty. Then Guy looked beyond the portcullis. Every man, women and child were clawing at the metal, desperate to get a good view. He prayed it wouldn't affect his plans. "Raise the portcullis!" A guard shouted. Within seconds people covered every inch of the cobblestone floor, all of them pushing and shouting and jeering.

"People of Nottingham!" Vaisey yelled over the mob. "Where's the knife?" Guy hissed at Arthur.

"From this day forth-"

"Pen had it." Arthur replied. Guy saw Pen throw the knife to Nazeem, who caught the blade in his mouth, then dropped it over his shoulder. "-This man, who has terrorised and beaten and killed your loved ones, will be no more. Did Hood spare you from his tyranny? No. But I will."

Guy glanced over his shoulder again. Gwyneth had the knife.

"And, as promised, you may have the remains. Chop chop, executioner." Vaisey finished. The crowd turned into a frenzied mob, pushing the guards to their very limits. One of the guards came up to Guy, grabbed the back of his neck and forced him down to the chopping block. "Where's the knife?" Guy worried. The executioner, who looked sick to his stomach, took a deep breath, and with a colossal effort, he managed to life the axe. Guy dared raised his head. The executioner stood still, the axe wobbling in his hands and a knife poking in his chest, then collapsed to the side.

"Now!" Guy yelled. The outlaws shot up and went for the guards nearest them. Guy looked around wildly for a weapon. There was the knife stuck in the executioners chest and the axe. A guard came running up to him, sword drawn. Guy lunged for the axe and swung it with all his might, sending fresh pain shooting down his back. The axe logged itself in the guards ribcage. Guy took the sword and assessed the battlefield. The people who were pushing and shoving to get a clear view were now scampering away like rats, screeching and clawing at each other. Guy couldn't blame them. A pile of corpses surrounded Nazeem as he fought with two short swords. Pen and Gwyneth were fighting back-to-back, also up to their eyeballs in blood. Little Arthur stood their holding a spear, his whole body shaking, too scared to move. This was no place for someone as young as him. And finally Guy found what he was looking for. The sheriff.

Confused. Shocked. Panicking.

Those were the emotions written across his face. Gisborne raced to him, killing anyone who dared the cross his path. He was like a wolf; once he had locked eyes on his prey, nothing would stop him from bringing it down. Guy forgot everything. There was him, and the sheriff. Nothing more, nothing less. Only they were important to him. Unfortunately for the outlaw, Vaisey spotted him as he was a couple of yards away.

"Don't do this, Gisborne." Guy took another step forward. "I was always fond of you. Not overly fond, but fond all the same." The sheriff's words seemed nothing but a faint whisper on the wind. "You represent everything loathsome in a man." Gisborne snarled. "I thought that's why you liked me." Guy swung his sword at the sheriff's neck, but Vaisey merely took a few steps backwards, out of range. "Who put you up to this, Gisborne? Prince John? Your uncle? Do you hear me? This is nothing but sport. Childishness."

"I'm not doing this for anyone. This is for me. I will be rid of you."

Guy attacked again, but his sword was deflected by the sheriff's steel hand. Vaisey drew his dagger and they both exchanged blows, nothing fatal, yet. "You're the reason why Marian's dead, you poison everything." Guy snarled, lunging forward trying to stab the sheriff, but he step-sided the blade and punch Guy hard in the ribs with the spiked ball. Guy cried in pain as he staggered away, trying to regain his balance.

"All this for a women?!" Vaisey yelled, attacking his former master-at-arms with renewed vigour. Guy blocked one of the attacks, but failed to evade the spiked ball connecting with the back of his hand. Guy's sword clattered to the ground as pain erupted throughout his arm. And now he was weaponless. His blue eyes searched desperately for anything that could be used to defend himself. Vaisey leaped forward, causing Guy to jump back. Too focused on finding a weapon and defending against the onslaught, the outlaw tripped over a corpse. "You know I loved you like a son," Vaisey coaxed, "and you loved me like your father once. I know you did."

'So this is it.' Guy thought, as he lay there._ 'This is how I'll die.'_ It wasn't a bad way to die. He was going down fighting, trying to kill the sheriff. And he was defeated. He lost. Game over. And now he was going to die. It was simple. Yet still, a part of him was annoyed, annoyed at himself for making such a simple error. The sheriff took a step towards him, picking up his sword. "You dropped something." Vaisey mused. His heart rate accelerated. _'Supose it could've been worse.'_ Guy thought, but he struggled to see how it could have been worse. Guy focused his gaze towards the sky. The wind sent clouds dancing across the sky. He felt the tiniest amount of water slither down his cheek. Another came. And another. Until millions at once launched a relentless attack on the ground. Within seconds he was soaked to the bone, his hair, a flowing river, his shirt, saturated with moisture.

_'What was taking so long?'_ Guy wondered. He risked a glance. Vaisey dropped to his knees, his face jewelled with droplets of water. The sword clattered to the ground, causing a small splash as it landed in a puddle. To say Guy was confused was an understatement. And then the sharp edge of a metal blade bit into Vaisey's neck, and tore through to the other side.

_'Was this happening?'_ The outlaw puzzled. Or had he died, and was merely fantasizing things? The sheriff's head rolled off his shoulders, landing in the water with a splash. Guy couldn't believe his eyes as blood poured from where Vaisey's head was, mixing in with the rain. He sighed deeply, a smile playing across his face. It was done. He was dead. Guy lay in the rain, letting that thought sink in. It was almost as though he could feel a weight being lifted off his shoulders.

"Are you trying to drown yourself in this blasted rain or what?" Nazeem said, looming over him, covered in blood. Guy still couldn't take what was going on. After what seemed like an eternity to him, Guy got up and sprinted out of Nottingham.

* * *

The outlaws- Guy, Nazeem, Arthur, Gwyneth and Pen stopped running. They had been running since they killed the sheriff, (which still hadn't properly sunk in), and were footsore, and in need of a rest. None of them were sure what would happen next. None of them had any real plans after their escape. On the positive side, the rain had subsided.

"Do any of you know which direction Locksley is?" Little Arthur asked, daring to break the silence. "Are you mad? You've just made it onto Nottingham's most wanted." Pen imformed. "So, then... this means I can stay with you guys?"

There was a chorus of 'no, yes and whats.'

"Who said anything about staying together?" Pen argued. "Would it not be wiser, if we work together to take down bigger prey?" Nazeem suggested. "Name ya terms." Gwyneth command. "Well... um..." Nazeem looked to sky as if searching the clouds for guidance. "Whatever gold we get, we split equally. A portion of the money should go to food and equipment, unless we hunt the food." Guy stated, all eyes falling to him.

"So you're joining us, Giz?" Arthur questioned, raising an eyebrow. "I never said I was joining and don't call me that." Guy snapped. "Call you what? Giz?"

"Yes." Guy growled.

"But it suits you. It's like a sound a wild animal makes when it's angry. And you're always angry."

Everyone roared with laughter at the remark. "It's idiots like you that make me annoyed. Now, _you_ can go and catch some food," Guy ordered, pointing at Arthur, "and get some firewood."


	14. Unfinished business pt 1

Greenveilbride; thanks bro, I agree

Dreamer in the shadows; thanks, I hope you enjoy this chapter too ;)

* * *

**Chapter 14; Unfinished business, part 1**

"Gisborne!" Robin roared as him and the gang charged through Sherwood. He was annoyed. Really annoyed. Because of one selfish act, Nottingham was going to go up in flames. Hundreds of people were going to be homeless, and that's if they survived the soldiers. And then where were the people going to go? They couldn't live in the the forest, hardly anyone would survive the winter. The other neighbouring villages also wouldn't look too kindly on refugees flocking the roads. Plus they didn't have enough food supplies or any sort of 'real' accommodation. Why didn't Gisborne stop to think about that for one moment? He was beginning to think like Much...

"Robin, wait!" Much shouted behind him. Reluctantly, Robin slowed to a stop. "Don't do anything stupid." Much panted. "I won't." He answered. "Promise me." Much said. "I promise Much." Robin replied, giving him a weary smile. "Come on, we're getting closer." Robin said to the rest of the gang. They had been tracking Gisborne for a number of days, searching far and wide for him and his men. And finally the hunt was almost over.

"Gisborne!" Robin yelled at the top of his lungs again. He dashed up a small incline and found himself looking down on a well-known blue-eyed enemy. There were also four other unfamiliar faces staring back at Robin. Without hesitation, everyone drew their weapons, sending a dozen metallic rings echoing throughout the woods.

"It was about time you showed up, Hood." Guy stated. Much popped up by Robin's side, followed by Allan, Tuck and Little John. "You killed the sheriff." Much growled furiously.

"Nope." Guy answered. "What?" Much gasped. "I killed the sheriff." Nazeem answered. "You..." Much growled, pointing a finger. "Prince John is going to burn this place to the ground!" Much screeched. "Unless you've made a copy of yourself who somehow managed to raise an army and is sitting in Nottingham right now!-"

"I haven't, but my good friend here does have someone with incredible likeness and an army of mercenaries and is probably sitting in Nottingham right now."

"Bet you didn't think of that, Hood." Guy smirked, leaving it to sink in for full effect. Robin didn't know what to say. Gisborne may have helped kill the sheriff, but now Nottingham was replaced with another tyrant, and a mad man at that. Robin spoke his thoughts allowed.

"There's just no please in you man. Now give us your gold and we can get through this smoothly." Penderyn demanded, knife ready in hand.

"I give all my gold to the poor." Robin answered bluntly, staring at him in the eye.

"Yeah well-" Pen was cut off by the sound of a dozen horses approaching. Guy spun around. The horses slowed to a halt, and then a familiar figure came into sight;

"Good day, little people." Announced a rich, and slightly irritating voice. Sir Jasper dismounted his fine horse, his purple cloak flying behind him like Autumn leaves in the wind. His clothes were regal; designed to both impress and intimate the target.

"You." Guy snarled, venom in his voice. "Missed me?" Sir Jasper smirked, then his grey eyes danced across to Robin, who merely stood their, a sombre look on his face. "Hood! How nice of you to join the party."

"I wish I could say the same for you." Robin replied, meaning what he said.

"Aw, don't be so sad. Just think of all the people you will be keeping warm tonight." Jasper mocked again.

"Then I take it you haven't been to Nottingham?" Guy said, a patronizing tone in his voice.

"Obviously not."

"Well then, let's just say, you'll need a bigger army than this rabble." Guy's comment earned a lot of dark stares and growls from the small group of soldiers, but Jasper merely laughed.

"Ah yes, you see, the pair of you have become a real pain in the princely backside. So, as well as burning Nottingham, I'd thought I'd burn Sherwood too."

"What? You can't, it's the king's forest!" Much exploded.

"Have you been living in a cave? It's only a matter of time before the king is dead." Sir Jasper yelled.

"The Black Knights are finished. He knows of Prince John's treachery, and when he returns-" Robin began.

"When the king returns," Sir Jasper scoffed, "when will the king return? You think he'll come back and then everything will right and just and we can all live happily ever after?"

Guy ignored the last remark and sniffed the air around him; a variety of wild flowers with a pinch of grass, all overpowered by the intoxicating fumes of burning wood, which would no doubt be getting closer.

"You've been playing us for time, haven't you?"

"I'm surprised you took so long to figure it out, Gisborne. Tell me, how does it feel to die the same way your wretched mother did?"

Without knowing, Gisborne leaped forward, sword in hand, his icy eyes smothered in rage and pure hatred. Nazeem flung himself at him. "Guy, calm down." The assassin yelled, wrestling him into a headlock.

"Gerroff me." Gisborne choked. 'How does he know?' He yelled at his brain. The fire was never a big secret, but it was obvious he had research that for him. Guy made a mental note to get revenge later.

"I hate to leave you all like this but I really must be going. Farewell, little people." Sir Jasper spurred his horse, sending it sprinting down the forest path, leaving Guy glaring at his disappearing figure.

"We need to get out of here." Nazeem ordered. Robin and his gang had already left the battlefield. "Can't... breathe..." Guy whezzed. "Oh right. Sorry." Nazeem apologized, releasing the headlock. He spared a glance behind him; the orange glow of fire mingled in with thick black smoke were slowly slithering towards them. He had wasted enough time here. They all had. It seemed as though everyone was thinking the same thought as they sprinted from the opposite direction of the smoke. None of them were totally sure where they were going to go. Away from the fire, that much was obvious but where to next? Keep running till they burst through the other end of Sherwood? It would take days, if not a week to cross that much land. And that was without stopping for rest, food and water. They would burn eventually against their immortal foe.

"We cannot continue like this." Gwyneth burst at last, red in the face and breathing heavily.

"Then where are we going to go?" Arthur said, also weary and breathed heavily. "Back to camp?" Pen suggested.

"We'll be smoked out like rats in the cave." Nazeem pointed out.

"Then to Nottingham." Little Arthur declared. "And suppose that's where the enemy wants us to go, boy?" Penderyn countered.

"Locksley." Guy reckoned. "It is safe enough, plus I have unfinished business there."

* * *

It was past working hours when the gang infiltrated Locksley, the setting sun casting long shadows dancing across the hard-beaten ground. There wasn't a soul in sight; everyone had withdrew to the warmth and safety of their homes, and it seemed Gareth had taken every soldier to Nottingham with him. They past the blackened ruins of Locksley manor- Guy felt a pang of sorrow for the home he worked so hard to gain, now just a bit of ash to mark his troubles. They were all exhausted and hungry, having dashing around Sherwood all day. They would kill for a nice warm bed for the night.

Guy raised his gaze to the sky; pinks, oranges, blues and reds splattered the heavens like paint on a canvas, all mixing a, together like one big masterpiece. However, snaking its way across the painting, black smoke continued to drift lazily in the sunset, forever staining the painting.

"Sherwood's still burning." Nazeem pointed out, following Guy's gaze. "It'll take ages to put the fire out, and even longer for the forest to grow back." Gwyneth added. "I'll make them pay for this. All of them." Little Arthur growled, his young face twisted into an expression of determination and revenge. Then Guy saw his features change as two peasants stepped out of their home and gazed at the strangers, then completely soften as he recognized who they were.

"Mum!" Arthur cried as dashed to meet his mother. She dashed over the threshold and met her son halfway. "Oh my Arthur. My little boy. Where have you been? They didn't hurt you, did they?" His mother fretted. "No, I was going to have my head lobbed off by the sheriff but I escaped with their help so I tagged along with them-"

"It's okay sweetie, you can come home now and everything will be as they used to." His mother cooed, dropping to his level so she could look him in the eye.

"But what about them? I can't leave them." Arthur asked.

"Arthur Emmanuel Ashton, they are outlaws! Wild! Thieving! Murderous! With no respect for the church or anyone!" She shrieked, shaking him by the shoulders.

"But mum, they've protected me from-"

"Look at you," she muttered, ripping his riveted helmet off his head and snatching his spear from his thin hands. "Think you're big enough to take on the world? Think you manage on your own?"

"I never said-"

"Come back home with your father and I, we'll keep you safe-"

"No mother, I won't. I'm old enough to make my own decisions. Look at me. I'm not your little baby you can hold in your arms. I am an _outlaw_. An _outlaw_. Things have changed, it's time to move on."

Arthur picked up his helmet and his spear. When his mother didn't respond, he turned his back and walked away.

"Wait," she cried, then her green eyes fixed on Guy. "You're leaving me for _him_? A brutal murderer? Who's going to take care of me in my old age? What if I'm sick? What if I'm injured?" Then, as Guy observed, she became more delusional. "Leave, then. You're no longer welcome here. If I _ever_ see you here again, I swear to God I'll call the guards, or I'll do the job myself."

Little Arthur doubled his pace and ignored the mad pleas of his mother, tears streaming down his face, his own emerald eyes staring hard on the ground.

"Sorry guys." Arthur mumbled beneath his breath. "Come here." Gwyneth said, putting an arm around him. Guy's body was racked with guilt. At first, he envied them. He'd give anything to have his mother back. But now, it felt as though he was to blame. He should've taken him back to Locksley. No way the boy should've been an outlaw. '_And he isn't going to.'_ Guy promised. He wouldn't let him kill a man and damn his soul in hell too.

"Giz?" Nazeem said, awaiting orders. "Find a place to stay for the night, do you know what house William and Derry live in? Two boys from Locksley-"

"Third house on the right." Arthur answered.

"Thank you." Guy replied uneasily, still feeling guilty. He turned around and went to follow Arthur's directions, but Nazeem caught his arm and pulled him in close. "Whatever unfinished business you have, finish it quickly." He whispered. Guy nodded and continued walking. He reached the grubby little cottage rather quickly. _'Just get the crossbow and go.'_ The outlaw planned in his head. He raised a fist to knock, then heard the faint muffled noise of voices inside. Should he knock, or pherphas wait? Guy didn't want to disturb them when the family were in the middle of something. Nevertheless, Guy rapped twice on the door.

"I'll get it." He heard a voice say. Then the door swung open.

It wasn't William or Derry or Marge or Grandpa who answered the door. It was Robin of Locksley. An old wrinkled head popped up over Robin's shoulder. "Gisborne?" Grandpa puzzled. "You. Hood." Guy said, looking from one to the other, then remembered to draw his sword. Robin didn't flinch. He was unarmed.

"How long have you and your men been following me?"

"Someone's jumpy."

"Answer me." Guy demanded.

"Gisborne, I have better things to do with my day. I'm alone."

"Very well. Pick up your sword. Fight me."

"Really? You really want to do this now?" Robin asked.

"Why not?"

"Well honestly, you look exhausted. I don't think you have the energy to do this."

"I don't need food or sleep to drive me." Guy snapped.

"Then what will?" Robin asked, reaching for his own sword and pointing it at him.

"If you two spill a _single_ drop of blood on my porch, then by God, I'll drag you to Nottingham myself." The familiar voice of Marge hissed. Guy glanced behind him; Marge was standing there, a heavy saucepan in hand ready to attack anyone who made the slightest movement. With a sigh, the pair of them sheathed their swords.

"I came for what belongs to me. My crossbow." Guy growled without invitation.

"You'd better come in then. There is something I need to tell you anyway." Grandpa gestured with his hand. Guy didn't want to move, he was perfectly fine where he was. But with great reluctance he inched forward, Robin stepping out of the way, and lent against the door frame.

"You may have your crossbow," Grandpa began, clearing his throat, "if you stay and listen to what I say first."

"How long is this going to take?" Guy demanded.

"Long as a piece of string. This is quite important. A life depends on it. You need to stay too, Robin, this concerns you as well."

"What?" Robin puzzled.

"You heard. A life depends on it." Grandpa reminded. Reluctantly, Robin and Guy sat down at the small table, both their bodies tense and ridged, ready to whip their swords into action at a moment's notice. Something concerning the both of them meant only one thing; it was about the past.

"Now then, a strange man came to me not yesterday morning. He was frail, even more frail than me. And what he told me, is crucial-"

"Is it about the past?" Guy asked, unable to keep his curiosity from bubbling.

"Yes, but there is much more you need to know, Guy of Gisborne, much much more..."

* * *

_Sorry to leave you all on such a cliffhanger, but I had to draw the line somewhere. I'll promise to add more asap. Thanks._


	15. Unfinished Business pt 2

Random guest; Don't worry, Robin isn't going to die anytime soon.

Greenveilbride; it won't be Robin Hood without a bit of humour in it ;)

Dreamer in the shadows; Thank you, it seems like your hopes haven't been dashed.

Mister Charlie Chaplin; As of this chapter, they will be working together.

* * *

**Chapter 15; Unfinished business, part 2**

Robin and Guy sat there, the silence and tension overwhelming them, waiting for Grandpa to tell his story. "There is bad blood between you." He began.

"Well maybe there's reasons for that bad blood. What do you know anyway?" Guy snarled.

"There's more to it than that. I know the truth now."

"The truth about what?" Robin asked, also getting impatient.

"About how your parents really died."

The statement brought silence to them all. It was the last thing Guy and Robin _ever_ wanted to talk about.

"So? You were there at the night of the fire. And you told him, didn't you? You told Jasper." Guy spat.

"It was never really a secret. Everyone knew what happened that day." Robin added.

"Look, he gave me no choice." Grandpa shouted, all traces of the feebleness gone, sounding like he did on his younger days. But it was only for a brief moment, till the order was restored.

Listen to me, the pair of you, there's more to it, now quiet. I wasn't the flames that killed your mother Guy, it was Malcolm Locksley." Grandpa blurted out. In a flash Guy was on top of Robin, his hands crushing his throat.

"You!" Guy roared, Robin's body flopping like a fish on a line beneath him. Panicking, Grandpa looked for the nearest non-lethal item. He immediately dashed over to a cabinet, took out a small pouch of salt and emptied it into a bucket of water. Next, he tipped the bucket over Guys back. Immediately, he was on the floor, shrieking in agony as the salt ran into his wounds.

"You idiot!" Guy snarled. "Well what was I suppose to do?" Grandpa puzzled. "Anything... but that." Gisborne continued to hiss.

"How?" Robin coughed, regaining his breath, shock written across his face.

"Well, your mother, Guy and your father, Robin, they were deeply in love-"

"My father only loved one person, and that was my mother!" Robin erupted.

"Huh. You were always were always protected from the truth, always shielded from reality by your precious father." Guy snarled, getting up from the floor. Robin glared at him, his hand twitching towards his sword, but Grandpa stepped in first- "gentlemen, if you will please listen to what I have to say first, you can quarrel later." With a sigh, Robin crossed his arms reluctantly.

"Now, it was around the time of Roger's return from the Holy Land, May or April, I think."

"May. The fire wheel." Guy confirmed. Robin turned his head to Guy. "I am truly sorry for what happened that night. But it made me into the man I am today." Guy looked away, unable to meet Robin's gaze. He was hating every moment of reliving the pain he felt that day, the pain he that took him years to bury in the darkest region of his heart, all undone, washed away like leaves in the Autumn breeze. He wanted to leave, he needed to leave, his crossbow be damned, yet somehow, he not summon the strength to move his legs.

"Anyway, Ghislaine was pregnant-" Grandpa began.

"What?" Robin and Guy gasped at the same time.

"There was a child. Malcolms and Ghislaines child. A boy. Called Archer. It was a week before the fire. Ghislaine had the baby and she and Malcolm took it away to an Abbey. It was the last time they ever saw their child."

Another period of silence followed, allowing the newly received knowledge to sink in. "And?" Guy snarled, tired of this and wanting nothing but to sink his head into a soft pillow.

"Well, Bailiff Longthrone found out that Ghislaine was pregnant and went to Nottingham to claim the land. So, the two of them were going to be married and them the claims would be worthless."

"They only ever planned to." Guy finished. The words slipped out by accident as he recalled his sheer hatred for that particular Bailiff. "You knew?" Robin asked, bewildered and confused, mixed in with a sprinkle of anger. "I found out." He confessed. Realizing that Robin and Grandpa wanted to hear his side of the story, Guy continued;

"I saw my mother head out into the woods by herself, carrying a basket of food. I followed. She was there, with my father. She still loved him. I was so angry that day. She told me to forget about him, yet there she was, denying my father. I confronted her later that day, and she told me their plans. But she promised me not to speak of it till it was done. And them she collapsed to the ground. I never ran so fast in my life."

"She was in labour." Grandpa answered.

Guy spared a glance to Robin, who met him with a cold hard gaze. He turned away. "I see that now."

Robin gave no answer, continuing his hard stare into space, his mind swirling with the new information acquired. Suddenly, everything seemed different, as if someone had shone a light on their past, and it revealed things they never dreamed of.

_'Why now?'_ Robin asked himself.

Why now, did they have to learn the truth of things? Had they learnt this both, things would have been different from the start. Marian might have been alive. Robin dismissed that thought and focused on the present. There was the child, his half-brother. And the fire. For some reason, Robin felt that there was no way he'd escape without a glimpse of that night.

"He was early, the child was. They called him archer, because there's a birth mark shaped like an arrow-head on his rib cage."

"I still don't understand," Guy said, "how does this links in with the fire?"

Grandpa sighed deeply, recalling the dark night, and then continuing with his story; "Your father returned to the manor the following day, to meet with Ghislaine, and then-"

"Malcolm showed up." Guy added, answering not with the voice that growled and shouted at others, but one of a man who had was recalling a moment of pure sadness and terror. At that moment, Robin saw a different side to him; not the cruel henchmen of the sheriff, ready to kill and torture at a moment's notice, something lurking under his dark surface that was unknown to him. But Robin knew that whatever it was, they were just two sides of the same coin. It didn't redeem from his sins. It never will.

"They both fought, and just as Malcolm was about to finish Roger off, Ghislaine grabbed his hand, but Malcolm elbowed her backwards. And she died. Cracked her skull as she hit the ground."

"So, I didn't kill her?" Guy asked as though it was a daring question.

"Nope." Grandpa answered.

"All these years, I thought I killed her. She died because of the fire I started. I lived with that guilt everyday. EVERYDAY!" Guy roared, advancing on the poor man like a thunder storm. "Where is he?" Guy hissed, centimetres away from him. "I don't know who you're talking about." Grandpa whimpered. "You know exactly who-"

"But the child-" Grandpa choked.

"Guy, leave him." Robin commanded. Guy froze. Was he about to take orders from Hood? Yet he didn't fancy interrogating an old man. A wheezing cough from the other room broke the silence. Guy found what he was scratching for. He immediately leaped across the room and flung the door open, followed closely by Robin.

"I'm sorry, Robin." Malcolm Locksley sat on the bed, his face twisted and gnarled by the flames. What once was a mane of brown hair was now a few strands.

"No... no, this cannot be." Robin denied, tears welling up in his eyes.

"How can I be your father," he croaked through a voice that wasn't his, "after what I've done. After all I taught you about honour. I couldn't bear to see the shame in your eyes."

"You. You killed her." Guy pointed, then lowered his hand when he realised it was shaking. Guy cursed himself for leaving his sword in the other room, but continued to advance on him. "You killed her!" Gisborne screamed again, shaking him by the shoulders. "Get off him." Robin yelled as he tried to pull the outlaw away from him.

"Can't you see he deserves this? He's betrayed both of us." Guy argued.

"Kill me then. Death would be a release. There's been many times that I've been tempted to do the job myself." Malcolm croaked, using a voice that wasn't his.

"And you expect us to feel sorry for you?" Robin snapped.

"Of course not-"

"So then why now? Why wait all this time to tell us?" He continued to quiz.

"Because of your brother. You must forgive each other, so that you can unite."

"This again." Guy complained.

"Everything you have heard tonight is the truth. I have told you, so that you won't kill each other, like your father's did." Then his blue eyes fell to Robin. "Son..."

"No. You have lost the right to call me son when you left me alone in the world." Robin snapped.

"Maybe, but didn't it make you the man you are today?"

Robin paused for a moment, remembering the day when he drove Longthorne out of Locksley.

"Both of your lives could've been so different, if it weren't for the mistakes your parents made." Malcolm stated.

"Well, we can't change that, but I can never forgive Guy."

"Why not?" His father asked.

"Because he showed no remorse for what he did to Marian." Robin shouted, anger building up inside of him, tangled with grief.

"You know nothing." Guy scoffed, recalling the dark times when he'd thought then demons would push him to insanity and beyond.

"You worked and killed for the sheriff for years."

"And you'd still be living under his power if it weren't for me. I tried to kill the sheriff both in Nottingham castle, Locksley and at my execution. The only reason I failed was because I was still weak from the lashes and you showed up in Locksley." Guy finished.

"You mean it was you, all this time?" Robin gasped.

"Yes, it was the only way, I didn't have much of a choice-"

"Everything is a choice!"

"Well, then you must've had the best options." Guy countered. Then he met Robin's eye. "I intend to kill the new sheriff." He added. "First you must join to save your brother." The old man whezzed.

"You know where he is?" Robin asked.

"Finally, after years of searching. I thought that if I could find him, tell him the truth about who he was. It seemed the right thing to do. For Ghislaine. It wasn't easy, he doesn't stay on the same place for long. But now he has no choice.

"Where is he?" Guy asked.

"York jail. He is to hang." The old man's eyes fell to Robin. "I'm too sick to help. I'm dying Robin. You both are my last chance, together, I know you can both do the birth mark, shaped like an arrow head. Do this for me."

"I won't let him die father." Robin confirmed, embracing him.

"I wish I could see you two together at least. I'm sorry." He apologized again. "Save him, and save yourselves."

Grandpa walked in, holding Guy's crossbow. Neither did them realized he left.

"Goodbye father." Robin said, walking into the other room and grabbing him weapons. Guy took his crossbow and sword, then left wordlessly. Robin followed him, standing on the porch next to him. "Gisborne-" Robin began.

"Enough talk." Guy ordered.

"Then what do you think we should-"

"I need to assemble my men. I'll meet you on the road to York."

* * *

Guy hurried down the empty path, the pre-dawn light guiding him, determined to find where his outlaws had spent the night. The only logical place he could've thought of was a barn. No one in their right mind would host a bunch of outlaws, unless it was Hood of course. He came to the edge of the village, where the barn was, and without hesitation, he opened the doors.

His logic proved true.

Asleep, on the hay, were the four outlaws. It seemed almost sinful to wake them. Yet time was against him.

"Get up!" He yelled.

"Giz... what the hell are you doing?" Pen moaned.

"Get up!" Guy repeated. Slowly, and forcefully, the outlaws managed to sit up and open their weary eyes.

"What's the news, you got that look on your face again." Nazeem asked. "What look?" Guy snapped. "That look." He answered.

"I- listen, I'm going to York with Robin-" Guy began.

"Robin? Who's Robin? You and Robin Hood?" Gwyneth scoffed.

"Yes-"

"Who's going to York?" Little Arthur asked.

"Will you all shut up and listen?" Guy shouted. He only continued when there was absolute silence. "Robin Hood and I, are going to York, to rescue our recently discovered half-starved, who is due to hang anytime soon. Are you with me?"

The silence he sought hard for overstayed its welcome. It wasn't a hard question. Follow him to York or stay here? With Robin and Guys outlaws behind him, the odds weren't looking too bad. Yet time was ticking away, and Guy knew that they needed the time he didn't have to think about this before making a decision. So he made the choice for them;

"I need to go. If you chance your mind, follow me to York."

* * *

_Short chapter, I know but I feel this needed to happen for then to have a strong enough reason to unite. Thanks._


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